


Fault Lines

by justmeandmymuse



Series: Turning Points [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Hiddlesworth Fandom, Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Bromance to Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, You Have Been Warned, domestic hiddlesworth, men who talk about their feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-27
Updated: 2013-09-07
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 125,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justmeandmymuse/pseuds/justmeandmymuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While still figuring out how to navigate their new relationship, the vagaries of reality set in for Chris and Tom. Will Chris manage to make his new relationship work, and still keep Elsa and India close?  How is Tom going to deal with living the great fear of his life every day? </p><p>As they work their way towards being an out couple, each man discovers his own fault lines – and they may not always lie where they had expected them.</p><p>This is the sequel to <i>Sleepover</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cloud Number Nine

**Author's Note:**

> This story starts a few hours after Sleepover ended. You didn't miss anything. ;)
> 
> In case you forgot, I feel funny about using the names of people who aren't really in the public eye, so family members and friends get renamed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic Hiddlesworth and Fluff. Cavity-inducing fluff, so you’ve been warned. I mean, really, take a hint from the chapter name.

"Are you still going to eat that?"

"Huh?" Tom moved his eyes off his phone and realized that Chris was pointing at his sausage. "No, go right ahead." He watched Chris taking his plate and transferring its contents to his own. "Oh god, that is so domestic." He had to laugh.

Chris hesitated, his fork hovering over his prize. "You said you didn't want it any more?"

"By all means, have at it. I can't eat another bite."

"And I'm still really hungry." Chris blinked at him.

"Another egg over toast?" Tom put his phone aside without having had a chance to look at his messages.

"Would you?"

"You could even have two."

"That would be perfect."

"No problem." Tom got up from his chair and tussled Chris' hair affectionately as he passed by him on the way to the stove. He turned on the oven and pulled over the pan, then cracked another two eggs into it. While they started to sizzle, he retrieved two slices of toast and popped them into the toaster, humming all the while, a happy smile stealing itself on his face. Tom couldn't remember the last time he'd been so content; feeling as if all was right with his world, and he wanted for absolutely nothing.

After having made love twice this morning, they'd taken a shower, during which he had introduced Chris to the body wash he had bought for him... rather intimately. Chris had had to swat him off playfully because he was so oversensitive that he started to laugh each time Tom touched him, and it had ended up in somewhat of a water fight, which had been fun. After the shower, Chris had then applied the lotion but held him at an arm's distance with a stern brow and a raised finger, not trusting Tom that he wouldn't escalate the situation once more. Tom had to admit that if he had been allowed to spread that lotion on Chris' absolutely perfect body, he wouldn't have been able to guarantee for anything, so he just watched Chris do it. Tom had then been allowed to ascertain that the lotion was performing as expected: softly kissing Chris' neck and shoulder, he had made sure it tasted good (it was actually rather sweet on his tongue), smelled really good mixed with Chris' natural scent, and made his skin feel like silk. It had been so hard to hold back and not escalate the situation once more, but Chris had jokingly begged for mercy, and then kissed him sweetly for about ten minutes, making Tom feel as if his chest was going to burst with happiness.

Then Tom had started their (very late, again) breakfast in the kitchen while Chris proved to be the perfect housemate. He cleaned up after them in the bathroom and changed the sheets on the bed. Their assorted lubes, condoms, massage oil and a new set of washcloths had stood at attention like little soldiers on the nightstand when Chris proudly presented his work. After, Chris had first fixed Tom's tea and then had a cup of coffee on the stool by the island, watching Tom flipping sausages and frying eggs while juggling toast and cutting tomatoes. The scene was so achingly domestic yet so bliss-inducing that Tom had joked about developing cavities from how sweet this all was. That was before Chris slid off his stool and decided to attach himself to Tom's back while he was getting things done, his gentle touches not at all conductive to concentrating on preparing the food. But the sentiment, how truly and deeply Chris was in love with him, that did not go unnoticed. At all.

"You're wearing me out, you know," Chris said now from the table.

"Uh-huh." Tom threw him a look, finding Chris smiling insolently at him, and laughed. "I'm not a bit sorry," he said. His eyes fell on the other pan. "There are some tomatoes left...?"

Chris was by his side in a flash, plate in hand.

"How does anyone afford to feed you?" Tom mocked him gently.

"The studio does," Chris said, fishing a tomato out of its pan and eating it right off the fork. "I haven't been eating enough yesterday. Need to keep up my weight."

"Do you need to work out today?" Tom wanted to know.

"Nope." Having finished the tomatoes, Chris put his plate aside and just stood with Tom, one hand resting on Tom's hip, and his chin on his left shoulder. "Sunday is my rest day, thank god." He squeezed Tom's hip. "Though you keep me pretty busy."

"Do I hear complaints there?" Tom turned his head, spatula in hand.

"No." Chris nuzzled his ear. "But I don't think I've had this much sex in so short a time in..." He looked at the ceiling, thinking hard. "… ever, honestly," he concluded. "Once the last night, one time yesterday morning, in the cab, by the door, in the shower, on the sofa," he counted, completely missing Tom's ferocious blush, and ignoring his attempts to shush him. "And then twice this morning within half an hour... how much is that?"

"You're asking the Classics major?" Tom said, not sure if he should laugh or cry. "I'm still counting on my fingers."

"Eight times," Chris concluded. "Eight. Fuck." He looked at Tom with new respect. "I think I need some more bacon."

Tom laughed. "I'm sorry, honey, I really don't have any left." The toast popped up and before he could do anything about it, Chris had snatched it and eagerly put it on his plate. "But you're welcome to raid the fridge, see if there's anything more in there for you to eat."

"This'll do," Chris said easily. "Though I wonder what's for tea at your Mum's."

"About that." Tom sighed, scooping a fried egg with his spatula. Chris was virtually shoving his plate under it, so he only had to drop it on the toast, then do the same thing with the other egg. He turned off the plate and wiped his hands on a towel before joining Chris at the table again.

"About that?" Chris asked, his mouth full.

"Would you mind terribly if we didn't go?" Tom clasped his tea mug in his hands and took a tentative sip, watching Chris very carefully.

"Um... why?" Chris asked. His brow furrowed.

Tom leaned back in his chair and fondled Chris' calf with his foot. "I'm kind of... kind of worn out," he said hesitantly. "First your parents this morning, you weren't feeling good about me going out of the house without telling you, and... and you still have to call Elsa." He grimaced. "Which can't be pleasant at the best of times. I'm... I feel like I've had enough for a weekend."

"Your family loves you," Chris said. "They're so much fun."

"Yeah, but..." He put his mug on the table. "I'd have to hide how I feel about you, and I'm kind of done with that. So if we don't hide, I'm sure someone picks up on what's going on, and I'd have to deal with coming out to a whole bunch of people in one sitting... I don't think I can manage that today."

"Okay, sure." Chris said lightly, but Tom could see that it wasn't sitting well with him.

Tom sighed, the last thing he needed was Chris thinking he was ashamed of being with him or some other nonsense. "Okay, let me tell you a couple of things about my family," he said. "I love my Mum, and I'm sure she loves me, but she will absolutely not approve of my being with you."

Chris was just opening his mouth for another bite, but he dropped the fork and looked at Tom. "Why? Because of the whole gay thing? Trust me, your Mum loves you. She's so proud of you, do you really think that would make a difference? Besides, she likes me." He flashed his most fetching grin.

Tom twiddled his spoon in his hands. "No," he said, "I'm sure she'd get used to me being with a man, but probably not with you."

"Why?"

"Because she raised me to be a better man," Tom said, each word having to be forced out. He didn't want to hurt Chris. "She'll definitely not talk to me for a while if she finds out for the simple reason that I'll... that we're cheating on Elsa, and that us being together will mean the two of you are breaking up."

Chris' expression was confused. "I'm... okay." He was befuddled.

"The whole reason my parents split up was over my father getting involved with someone else," Tom said, his heart clenching very uncomfortably. "I'm my Mum's last hope for decency in... well, mankind."

Chris put his fork down, his food forgotten. "Are you telling me that if we go official, your Mum is seriously not going to talk to you any more?"

"I'm fairly certain about that." Tom picked at the crumbs on his plate. "And I just don't have the wherewithal to deal with that today."

"Tom, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I... you're losing your wife, what's a few relatives compared to that."

"What do you mean, a few?" Chris reached over the table and captured Tom's hand. "Hey. I had no idea, okay? I thought you two were getting along so well, this wouldn't be much of a problem."

"They're not your parents," Tom said pensively. "I guess that's why... why I came out to yours this morning so easily. You'd already cleared the path and told me they were okay with it, and..." he sighed. "I just wanted to have at least one good experience with this before I moved on to..." he grimaced... "the pit that would be my family."

"What about your sisters? Your Dad?"

"Actually, Dad's going to..." He blew out a breath. "He won't be happy with me, but let's be real, my Dad loves success. He loves to brag with me. As long as I bring in the cash, get him in touch with celebrities, and stay successful, he'll get over it sooner rather than later." He shrugged. "That's just my Dad."

"And Evie? Sannah?"

"Evie's going to laugh herself silly, I'm sure." Tom found himself smiling fondly when he thought of his younger sister. "But she'll be fine with it. She'll tease me to no end but she knows you and loves you and she'll understand. Sannah..." he furrowed his brow. "To be honest, I think she'll be a bit gleeful over the Golden Boy not being quite so golden any more."

"How's that?"

Tom shrugged. "She really got the short stick when my parents split up. She didn't even try to fit in or arrange herself with the situation. Didn't go to a posh school, married young, and an Indian, to boot. She couldn't get out of the country fast enough, away from all this." He pushed his plate away from himself. "She hated me for trying to do right and gain everyone's approval."

"Well, if one thing, once she's calmed down, she'll probably make a good ally," Chris suggested, pressing his hand. "She's had the most experience with Mum's disapproval?"

"Being the pariah, you mean? Yeah. I'm sure she'll be quite thankful to get rid of that mark for a while and climb up the social ladder." He felt that he was getting upset after all.

"Tom?" Chris was getting up and took the chair beside him. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Tom tried a brave smile. "Not your fault." He shrugged. "I guess it's past time I'm emancipating myself. Been on mum's apron strings long enough."

Chris let his hand rest on Tom's knee and rubbed it with his thumb. "So no tea at Mum's today?"

"No." Tom leaned forward and rested at Chris' shoulder for a while, thankful when Chris' hand started rubbing his back. "Actually... what I'd like to do is just... pretend everything is normal for a while. I won't lie. If she asks who I'm spending my time with, I'm going to say it's you. I don't want to hide you, that would be really silly seeing as you make me pretty happy."

"I'm following your lead," Chris said. "Okay?"

"We'll have to be by her house today, though. Pick up some keys."

"Keys to where?" Chris leaned back to be able to see Tom better.

"I thought we could use some other sight than this old flat here," Tom said. "My family's got a summer home up close to St. Alban's. It's really quiet and private so we can go for a walk and practice your lines and just hang out undisturbed."

Chris nudged at him until Tom gave in and straddled his legs.

"I only care that we take enough to eat," Chris pointed out. 

"I'm fairly sure Mum will pack us some of that tea," Tom said, easily resting his lower arms on Chris' shoulders. "She does love you and will pinch your cheeks and feed you to within an inch of your life."

"I do like your mum."

"I like her, too. We're just not living up to her standards, and oh, the scandal this will be in her circle." Tom crunched up his nose. "Not looking forward to that."

"Who would." Chris just wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, and Tom thankfully sank into the embrace. "I love you."

"Hmmm. Love you, too." Tom found himself rubbing noses with his lover, enjoying very much how easy things were between them right now. "Are you gunning for number nine?" he teased.

Chris laughed, rocking Tom in his lap. "I just barely ate enough to replace all that energy I keep putting into you," he said. "You really are insatiable, Hiddleston." He didn't seem to mind too much.

"Hm, long distance runner," Tom grinned, waggling his brow. "Emphasis on the 'long distance'."

"You'll be the death of me," Chris smiled. "And oh what a death that will be."

"I hope not." Tom brushed his lips against Chris'. "I want you around a little bit longer."

"You'll have it."

They kissed leisurely without escalating their kisses, just enjoying each other's company.

"Do you need help with the dishes?" Chris murmured.

"No. I need you right here." Tom trailed his fingertips along Chris' neck, making the other man shiver appreciatively. There was something about that expression in his blue eyes that made Tom begin to believe in romance again, and in the kind of solid, dependable, yet deeply appreciative relationship that he'd always sought but never found. He was still falling in love with Chris, insatiably so, but under that he could feel the foundations of something so much more, of someone he would happily spend the rest of his life with, someone he could grow with, and grow old with. "I'm so glad..." he started, then laughed. "Nevermind."

"Hm?" Chris smiled.

"That I've found you," Tom said. "Sorry, just thinking a bunch of really sappy stuff right now."

"Sappy is good." He felt Chris' hands contract around his hips. "Glad I'm not alone with that." His nose crunched up in that adorable smile of his. "If they made what I'm thinking right now into a movie, no one would want to see it for all the fluffy hearts floating around. Everything's tinged in pink." He chuckled at himself.

"Hm... me, too." Tom connected their foreheads. "Still falling in love with you," he murmured. "Thank you so much for not giving up on me, love."

"Never." Chris kissed him, his large hands running up and down his back gently. "So worth it."

"Hm..." Tom allowed himself to just wallow in this cloud of bliss surrounding them, his heart so light. "I can't decide if I love this more or when we make love."

"Both," Chris murmured. "Both is good."

"God, we've got it so bad."

"Oh yeah." Chris rested his head against Tom's shoulder, cuddling into him, humming contentedly at Tom letting his hair slip through his fingers and tracing his neck. "I love you."

"Love you, too." It was so simple as they basked in this, and for a split moment, Tom asked himself why on earth everyone made such a big deal about what gender anyone else's partner was. Love was love, pure, trusting, giving, wanting to keep your partner from harm, all of that didn't differ one iota whether he loved a woman or a man. All those differences that people made were silly and stupid. He loved this man, and this man loved him back. There was absolutely nothing subversive or dirty about it. He arms slipped around Chris' neck and he just held him tight.

"Are you getting hard again?" Chris asked bemusedly.

"Honey, do I have to explain to you how men work?" Tom said. He kissed the crown of Chris' hair and made him look up. "You don't have to look at it."

"Uh-huh." Chris gave him a cocky grin. "You'll have to get that under control when we're out in public," he said.

"I can't help finding you the hottest ass in the universe," Tom kidded gently. "I guess I have a lot of catching up to do and my cock is not taking no for an answer right now."

"Mine, unfortunately, is." Chris said regretfully. "It wants to get really excited about you and then, it's just... ouch." He kissed him. "Apparently, you _can_ overdo it."

"It's probably for the best that we take a break," Tom smiled. "But I have some aloe vera gel that might help...?"

"That would be perfect. I'm definitely not done with you yet." The way Chris' broad hands slid up his sides made Tom realize exactly how much passion for him was still smoldering under that calm exterior. It didn't help his own excitement at all.

"Let me get it for you, then," Tom said.

"So eager." Chris gave him a gentle swat on the ass.

"Not done with you, either," Tom promised him. "Trust me, not by a long shot."

Chris beamed at him in anticipation, then grimaced. "Ouch."

Tom laughed and slid off his lap. "I'll be right back."


	2. What You Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris has something important to talk about with Tom. More cavity-inducing fluff towards the end.

He cleared the table while Chris was out applying the gel – he'd been shaking his head at Tom's offer to "help", obviously pleased, though, at how willing Tom was to get a chance to touch him. Tom was just wiping the table down when Chris appeared in the doorway, leaning against the doorjamb and watching him.

"Everything okay?" Tom asked.

"Yeah, instant relief." Chris laughed. "Thank you."

"My pleasure."

"I'm sure." Chris grinned, shaking his head at him, then he grew considerably more serious. "Tom, listen... can we talk about something?"

"Sure." Tom straightened, suddenly concerned. "Right here?"

"Maybe out in the living room?" Chris gestured.

It sounded serious. Tom put the cloth in the sink and wiped his hands on a towel. "Of course." He put the towel away and strode out the door, relieved when Chris slipped his arm around his shoulder when he passed him. But when they sat on the sofa, it was opposite each other, and Chris looked very concerned.

"What is it?" Tom asked. "Chris, you're just twisting my insides with that expression."

"Yeah, sorry." Chris flashed him an apologetic grin. "Tom... man, there is no good way to talk around this."

"I'm getting a bit alarmed here." Tom leaned against the sofa's back, his arm stretched out along it. "Talk to me."

His tone seemed to hearten Chris. "Okay, sorry... wow, okay... I guess you... you know how serious I am about this, right?"

"What, you and me?" Tom asked, relaxing somewhat.

"Yeah." Chris ran a nervous hand through his hair.

"About half as serious as I am about you?" Tom gently kidded. "Chris, I get it."

"I come with a lot of baggage," Chris said.

"If you're trying to shake me off, it's not going to work," Tom said seriously. "I know what I'm getting myself into."

"Last thing I want is to shake you off, on the contrary." Chris reached for his hand. "Honestly. Don't even want to think about it."

"Okay." Tom pressed his hand back. "Just tell me what's on your mind, Chris. We'll take care of it."

"Yeah, that..." Chris blew out a breath, "That's exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. It's about Elsa. Tom, I'm... Damn, I never thought I'd ever say that to anyone I've been involved with for a fucking day."

"We've been friends for a lot longer," Tom said. "You're not exactly a blank page to me, Chris."

"I will have to tell her we're together. I'm going to absolutely, horridly break her heart." He swallowed, pain obvious in his eyes.

"I know." Tom scooted a little closer and rubbed Chris' knee.

"I... I want us to be partners," Chris said. "You and me. I don't want to keep secrets from you, and I don't want to do any of this without knowing you're okay with it."

Wow. "Okay."

"I can't do this without you. I won't be able to protect you from some of what's going to go down, even if I want to."

"I get it."

"And it's going to reflect badly on you. I will..." He swallowed. "I'll obviously make it about me, about having been attracted to you for quite a while, and all the mistakes I've made, but... she's going to hate you."

"I'm aware of that."

"And I have no idea what she'll do."

"Do you think she's going to go to the media about this?" Tom asked, revealing his worst fear.

"I hope not, but of course we can't be sure." Chris shuddered. "I don't even want to think that she'd be capable of that."

"Chris, you need to call Andrea. And I need to call Luke. In case she does call the media, they'll need to be prepared."

"It's like we're arming up against her!" Chris ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know if I can do that."

"Chris, it'll be better for her in the long run. If you lose contracts over her dragging you in the mud, she's going to lose money, and you'll be less able to take care of her and India. You need to be clear about that. So if you're now looking to protect yourself, it doesn't mean you're not protecting her from doing something that she'll regret later."

"Yeah, yeah... You're right." Chris gave him a tentative smile. "Really glad I ran this by you now." But he looked very upset.

"Chris... are you sure you want to do this?"

"Want to? No." Chris snorted. "But I want to be with you. I keep beating myself up over how... remember last night when you told me you thought it was strange that I would be so willing to give her up?"

"Yeah."

"This morning, I talked to my parents about it. My mom has this really flattering theory over how I am so focused on you because I don't know if we'll stay together or not, and until I know, I don't have any resources left to care for Elsa or India."

"Your Mom is a saint," Tom said.

"Tell me about it." Chris gave him a look. "Fact is... I mean, this is all a bit like a gunshot wedding, isn't it? Everything needs to go so fast because I need to know what to tell Elsa."

"Yes." Suddenly, their insatiable hunger for each other and their absolute drive to know each other's intentions within the short span of this weekend made sense. "I guess if you weren't married we'd have a lot more time to figure out what we want."

"It's like a pressure cooker. I wish I could give you more time. I wish I had more time to... to woo you." He gave Tom an adorable little smile. "Wish I had had the chance to romance you instead of breaking down with neediness like I did this morning."

"Chris... we've had a lot of time to do that and neither one of us managed to get it or make a first move. Maybe this is what it took." Tom shrugged. "There's no..."

He was interrupted by Chris holding up a hand. "Hang on a second." He fished in his jean pocket and took out his vibrating phone. "It's Elsa."

Suddenly, Tom's heart beat faster. "Are you going to take that?"

"No." Chris denied the call, then opened a message window. "We need to finish this first." He looked up and gave Tom a smile. "You're my priority right now." He typed out a message and hit send. "I'm just letting her know that I've been held up and will call her as soon as I'm finished."

Tom watched him, blinking. He suddenly had a much better idea of what he meant to Chris. He would have expected to feel caged; it was a lot of responsibility, but he felt bolstered and proud, instead, which really surprised him. This was _his man_ now.

"Okay, done." Chris looked at him. "That's what I was trying to say precisely," he explained. "I wish I could say I am a better man than this, but right now, you are my absolute top priority, and everything and everyone else comes second."

Tom scratched the back of his neck to win some time, then said: "I'm just discovering that I wish I was a better man, too, but this feels really good, to be honest." They looked at each other.

"Before I answer Elsa's call, I want to know what you want," Chris said. "I want to know what you need to make this bearable."

And Tom found that he had a fairly good idea of what he needed, without having to think about it too long.

"I don't want to be in the middle of it," he said. "Elsa and I have barely tolerated each other all this time, for your sake."

"Oh god, you're right." Chris wiped a hand over his face. "The things you don't see when you don't want to see them."

"So please... I really want to be kept out of it. I don't want her to call me, and I don't want to have to talk to her," Tom said. "I don't want you to abandon them, but they're your family, not mine."

"Wow, okay." Chris blew out a breath. "You do know, though, that if you have me, you'll have India, too, right? And when I have her, you will have to deal with Elsa every now and then."

"That's not what I meant." Tom rubbed his hands, trying to think of how to rephrase his intentions. "In a few moments, we're both going to destroy Elsa's life. To say I feel horrible about that would be a gross understatement, despite my jealousy over her role in your life," he explained. "And I can't begin to imagine how you must feel. Priorities notwithstanding, you love Elsa, and you love India, and I know that in the long run, you want to have a positive relationship with them, and keep them in your life. I completely support you in that. But..." He sighed. "But I don't see how both of us breaking up over hurting Elsa is going to help anyone. I'll be here to deal with your end of what's going to come, but I can't be her advocate, as well. I can't be dragged in the middle of this."

"Okay." Chris nodded. "I understand that."

"And if I had my choice, if it's ever possible, I'd like to keep us out of the public eye for a while longer," Tom said. "I'm not ashamed of you, and definitely not ashamed of what we have, but I'm afraid that if it's put under too much pressure before we know where it's going and how we need it to be, it's going to break. And _that_... that is absolutely unacceptable to me. I've waited too long for this to lose it again over what other people think." His nostrils flared. "And I feel that because of that, my compassion is just not exhaustive enough to also accommodate Elsa's needs. I'm honestly at the brink of what I can take right now. I need a moment to let all of this settle and become normal and then down the line, I'll probably be better equipped to make room for someone else. And of course India is welcome," Tom said, smiling at Chris. "She's a part of you."

Chris smiled back at him, but the expression in his eyes was sad. "I wish we'd all figured it out sooner," he said. "Oh god, do I wish we had."

"But we didn't, and now we'll have to deal with it as best as we can," Tom said calmly.

"So what do you want us to tell Andrea and Luke?" Chris asked. "Just so we have our stories straight."

"Um... I'm not sure." Tom drew up his left leg and wrapped his arms around it. "I'm half certain you want to make a big announcement that we're together...?"

"Hah hah hah, no." Chris smiled. "I just want to be together with you. I don't want to have to hide how I feel about you. That's what made me so itchy last night, the secrecy, that I couldn't even hold your hand or show any affection or put my arm around you. People are going to be so damn judgmental. Probably not even over us being together, but over us destroying a family over it."

"So would it be okay with you if we... kept it out of the public for the moment, but would tell friends and family that we trust?"

"I think we've already started doing that," Chris said. "Could we just pretend it's the most normal thing and go from there?"

Tom smiled. "Just casually behave like a couple and let people connect the dots? That sounds pretty perfect to me."

"And I'll just tell them that Elsa and I have hit a snag. An unspecific snag." Chris' face turned sad. "I so wish I could spare her this."

"Then tell her that," Tom said.

"I wish I could pretend, but I can't," Chris said. "I'm in love with you. I don't want to pretend. But I wish it didn't mean breaking someone else's heart."

"I wish that, too." 

For a moment, they were both very quiet, then Chris said: "So do you want to formulate something that we'll tell our publicists?"

"Hm." Tom needed a moment to think. "If I had to call Luke right now, I'd tell him to please not be alarmed, but that there are a few changes he needs to be aware of in case some of it hits the public eye for some reason."

"Like...?"

"Like that you and Elsa are splitting up – which will probably hit the news sooner or later."

"I need to talk this over with Elsa on how publicly she wants to handle that," Chris said. "I owe her that much."

Tom nodded his assent.

"And the news about you and me?" Chris wanted to know.

"Trickier." Tom rubbed his neck. "I don't want Luke to make a huge deal of it. I don't want a huge coming out and loads of questions. I don't want to have to make declarations about sexual orientation and what not. I just want to tell him that we fell in love."

"Which we did." Chris smiled at him, a look of gentle adoration in his eyes that made Tom feel like his heart was instantly melting into a puddle.

"Yeah." Tom sighed, his chest contracting with feeling. "Wish I could just crawl into you for a while and let the rest of the world deal with themselves."

"That would be bliss." Chris scooted closer and connected their foreheads, his hand slipping around Tom's neck. "Tom." His voice dropped an octave as he breathed Tom's name.

"Oh God, this feels so good." Tom mimicked Chris' gesture. "I have no idea how I did without this."

"Lonely," Chris said. "I'm so sorry I left you alone for so long."

Tom's heart was beating so hard he felt his chest might explode. How could he allow this to be so perfect? What if Chris changed his mind? What if he would leave him again?

"Just don't do it again," he finally whispered, his eyes pressed closed so he wouldn't notice that he'd said it.

"I won't. I promise." Chris' hand contracted around Tom's neck. "I'm here to stay."

"You know how scary this is, that you keep taking me apart, all the time?" Tom said.

"I'm not sure what I just did...?" Chris asked.

"You keep talking to all my secrets," Tom said.

Chris just kissed him, as if he wanted to convince him that he was real, devoted, and here for him. It was a good kiss, so solid and reassuring, so very Chris. Tom pulled himself into close contact with him by leverage of his neck, until their bodies touched and Chris' arms slipped around him, so strong and long enough to wrap around him completely just like he had promised the night before. Tom's brow contracted and he found himself whimpering into the kiss, deepening it, just needing to feel Chris' strength against him, enveloping him whole.

"This is what I want," Chris said emphatically. "This. You. All of it. All of you."

Tom didn't know how Chris just knew what to say, how his words made his soul hum like a plucked string. It was so tempting to downplay it, or make a joke to make this feeling less intense, and it needed so much courage to just stay with what it was. He remembered how Chris had told him, last night, that whenever he had second thoughts, he should let them go and look into his eyes, and when he did that, he couldn't help but smile, because there was nothing but sincerity and devotion in them. Tom didn't know what the future would bring, but right here, right now, it was perfect, and he would be amiss if he didn't grab it with both hands and indulge in it as long as it held.

He found himself hiding his face against Chris' neck and just holding on tight, unable to express what he felt in words. But Chris seemed to get it either way; he held him close and stroked his back.

Chris finally gave a little sigh. "I didn't know I could be this happy," Tom heard him say. "Thank you."

He had to unwrap from Chris' neck to see his face. "For what?" he asked, his heart in his throat.

"Daring." Chris said. "Over and over again."


	3. End of the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris calls Elsa to give her the news

Chris found he wasn't in a particular rush to call Elsa. He had asked to be allowed to use the upstairs guest room and now he was just idly walking around in it, looking at the tasteful pictures at the walls, opening the roof window and peeking out to see a couple of cars pass by. His heart was at peace and full of a restful kind of joy, the kind of joy where you knew that everything you needed was where you needed it, and you could return to it at will.

He felt a little bubble of happiness come up and let it spread on his face. Knowing that Tom loved him back, knowing he was committed to making this work, experiencing how incredibly easy it could be between them when they were both on the same page was so much better than he had ever imagined it could be. It fit. It was right. He loved it. He loved Tom. Whatever would come up would be manageable as long as he had this.

He picked up the phone and speed-dialed Elsa. She picked up after the third ring.

"Chris?"

"Hey." He smiled and sat down on the day bed, lounging against the padded cushions. "How are you doing?"

"Been better," she said truthfully. "Are you done with what was keeping you?" It sounded rather sarcastic.

"Yes. Had to clear up a few things before I could call," he explained.

"And you did."

"Uh-huh."

There was a moment of silence, and then Elsa asked, flat-out: "What's going on, Chris?" She was remarkably collected.

"I'm staying with Tom." He thought honesty was the best policy. Now that he knew what was going on with him and he had made up his mind, there was no use in beating around the bush.

There was complete silence on the other end, and then Elsa laughed. It was laughter completely devoid of any kind of happiness. "Chris," she said. "You can't be serious."

"Never been this serious about anything," he said, his hand stroking over a pillow to his right.

"So how is that going to work, you're married to me during the day and sleep with him at night?" she asked.

He blinked. "No," he said. "I want to be together with him, Elsa. Completely."

"You must be joking," she said. "Chris... we are just married. We just had a child! What kind of nonsense is this?"

"The kind of nonsense that should have happened years ago when I first met him."

"You can't just... Chris, you can't just pretend we don't exist!" She was outraged.

"I'm not trying to pretend you don't exist," he said. "But I don't think I can stay married to you, either. I love someone else, Elsa."

"Do you know what that would look like in public? Do you know what this is going to do to your career? Chris! Stop talking nonsense and think about what you're saying!"

"It's probably going to be bad, but I can't help how I feel. I've been in love with Tom for a long time," he stated bluntly, feeling like she wasn't keeping up with what he wanted to say. "And it's enough; I just can't deny this any longer, Elsa!"

"Are you telling me you were lying to me all this time?"

Chris closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. "I didn't lie to you," he said. "The moment something happened between us, you were the first person I told."

"Because I caught you lying."

"If you want to see it that way, fine," he said. "But there was nothing happening behind your back, you knew I was staying here."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better, that you were telling me you were staying over with your affair?"

"It's not an affair, Elsa, I love Tom and I want to be with him!" He heard himself getting louder.

"How can he be more important than India and I?" she asked. "Explain that to me. In words that I can understand." He could now hear that she was suppressing tears. "Because I don't understand it."

"I love you and India, but I love him more." He didn't understand why she made him say this, had him spell it out for her. "I don't know what else to say, Elsa."

She was definitely crying now.

"And I don't know what it would accomplish to pretend I don't," he said, hating that had he made her cry.

"So the whole time we were married you were secretly in love with him? How could you do this to me?"

Why did women have to make everything so incredibly complicated? Had he not stated clearly how things had happened?

"Chris, say something!"

"I don't know what else you want me to say!" he said. Each way he turned, anything he could say, he knew it would break her heart over and over again, and he felt he was getting desperate to get out of this, to not have to do it again.

"Are you gay?"

"Would that make you feel better?" he asked, exasperated.

"Yes!" she sobbed. "At least it wouldn't be my fault you don't want me any more."

"It's not your fault, Elsa." He leaned forward on his knees, his forehead in his hand. "If it's anyone's, it's mine, and Tom's. We both didn't get it when we first met and we're both incredibly sorry it's going down like this. He's feeling terrible about breaking up a family."

"Not terrible enough to keep his hands off you," she sobbed.

He suddenly realized that Tom's request to be kept out of this was about the wisest thing he'd ever requested of him. "Elsa, I kissed him first," he admitted. "I think I was looking for a way to get him alone because I missed him so much over the summer. But I swear to you that none of this was planned or a conscious decision. I didn't plan on cheating on you, I didn't lead you on. I fell in love with you and married you because that was what I felt at the time."

"And now that the wind is blowing in the other direction you're changing your mind?" she asked.

"You really want me to spell it out."

"Yes. I want to know how you could dare lead me on like this and make me believe you were in love with me and we had a future."

"I did it because until two days ago that is what I thought!" he yelled. "I don't know what else to say!"

"Tom will be so relieved when you exchange him for the next person you think you've always been in love with!"

Chris let out a growl of frustration. "Listen, I get it that I'm the bad guy here," he said, trying to keep his cool. "Go ahead, vent at me, let it all out. I betrayed you, I cheated on you, you're right with all of that. Should I have known earlier? God knows I wish I had! Don't you think I wish I didn't have to hurt you so much?"

"You're a selfish prick," she spat.

"Fine. It doesn't matter that I still care about you and India. It doesn't matter that I want to see you well cared for. It doesn't matter that I still want both of you in my life. It doesn't matter that I'm honest with you."

"Right now, all I want is kill you," she said. "How can you hurt me like that?" There was a note of honest desperation in her voice. "How can everything be over like that? Over one night?"

"Two," he said tiredly.

"You really are an asshole," she declared.

"If that helps you, fine." He realized that he had become weary of the hostility.

"It's like I don't even know you!" she said, sounding frustrated. "Where is the man who wanted me? Where is my husband?"

Chris leaned back, and reached upwards towards the window with one hand, just to do something, feel like he wasn't so restricted, so bound. They all thought so much of him, his parents, Tom. Fitted him with more compassion than he actually possessed. Only he and Elsa knew the truth, how selfish he really was, how little he actually cared if only he had what he needed. There was no use pretending with her, she knew him too well.

"He's gone," he said, brutally honest. "I can't be that any more. I can be your friend, I would love to have that at some point. I will always be India's Dad. I don't want to lose you, you mean so much to me, Elsa. All the things we went through together."

"We've been happy, haven't we?" Elsa asked, sounding very small.

"Yeah, we have." He smiled. "We had some really good times."

"What does he have that I don't?" she asked. "Just tell me, so I can get it or at least... just tell me."

"We just fit together," Chris said.

"And we didn't?"

"This feels completely different." He wiped at his eyes, thinking rapidly. Thinking of Tom's eyes and how he laughed. How his body felt against his own. How happy he made him, and how urgently he wanted to make Tom happy. "Elsa, I think I would only hurt you more if I went on about what I love about Tom," he said.

"Chris, I still love you."

"I know."

"What am I going to do?"

"Oh, Elsa." And suddenly, there it was. He felt something. Finally felt as if he actually had a hand in making her unhappy. Actually felt how sad she was, and that he didn't want her to be sad.

"Are you absolutely sure?" she asked desperately.

"Yes," he said gently. "And I am sorry that I'm hurting you, please believe me."

"You being sorry changes nothing about me being hurt," she said. "Just tell me what happened, Chris, please."

"Ungh." He scratched the back of his head. "In detail?" He really didn't want to do that.

"Help me understand what happened," she said. "If I could've done anything about it."

"You couldn't," he explained patiently. "You really... you're really the victim here, Elsa, and I am horridly sorry about that. I really am. It's completely unfair to you."

"Did you sleep with Tom?"

"Elsa..."

"More than once?"

He rolled his eyes and clenched his teeth. "Elsa, that is between him and me. I won't tell him about what happened between you and me, either. I can't."

"Goddammit Chris just tell me why you choose him over me!"

If she had aimed to hurt him, now she had. Everything to do with Tom was so private, so new, so wonderful. It didn't belong here, not into this fight. While he wanted to be truthful with her, he didn't want to be hurtful, and he knew he would be if he got into what exactly Tom meant to him. Yet that seemed to be the only way to get through to her, and he hated it. Hated every moment of it. And he didn't want to expose any of that new wonder to her, didn't want to hear her sitting judgment over how he felt. What if he told her that each time he looked into Tom's eyes, he felt like he was finally coming home? 

How much he loved the physicality of making love with Tom, of not having to hold back, of just being able to go for it, and to have someone take him with such force that it actually made an impact on him, something that the women in his life had never been able to do. And then that incredible juxtaposition of having Tom come in his arms, that soul-deep vulnerability that he just gave to him like a gift, and that he gave back whenever Tom had him, and kept wanting to repeat over and over again. He wanted to catch Tom. He wanted to be caught by Tom.

"Because he's a man and you aren't," he finally said. The truth was so much more complex and complicated, but if that was what she expected, and what she would understand, then so be it.

"So I _was_ right."

"You were right." If he just gave in, he hoped this would be over soon.

She blew out a breath. "So if I had just trusted my instincts... I've been so stupid! How could I be so stupid?"

She seemed to be absolutely intent on taking on the blame, to find something she'd done wrong. And who knew? If she had not fallen for him, had seriously confronted him with her suspicions about Tom and him, maybe it had never got that far. At this point, he was too tired to keep arguing with her, and he doubted she was inclined to listen anyway. He decided to cut this short.

"Elsa," he said. "Do we want to wrap this up for today? Call again tomorrow?"

"Is he waiting?" she asked jealously.

"I don't think we're getting anywhere else today if we keep talking now," Chris said. "I just want to give both of us a chance to think about what happened and what we want to do."

"Well you obviously already know."

"Okay, give _you_ a chance to think about what you want to do," Chris said.

"What choice do I have?" she asked.

"Just think about it. Let it settle. You have family and friends around you, talk with them. Figure out what you need. I'm not leaving you alone, okay? I still care."

She scoffed. "Wait, have you told anyone?"

"I talked to my parents this morning," he admitted truthfully. "But I'll have to talk to Andrea later."

"Are you honestly thinking about going public with this?" she asked.

"Eventually. Not today, though. Or tomorrow. I'm happy to have your input in this – how you want it sold, and when. But eventually, yes, I want... I don't want to hide Tom or the fact that we are together."

"This is going to be the end of your career," she predicted gloomily.

He shrugged. "Maybe it will and maybe it won't," he said. "We'll see."

"I want to be well away before that one goes down," Elsa said. "Well away. I'm not going to go down with you."

"Fine."

"It really... it really is as if I've never known you." She snorted. "Who are you?"

"That makes two of us," he said. "I'll let you know once I've figured it out." He was tired of trying to make her feel better, make her understand him. A part of him realized she just couldn't, and it was a necessary defense mechanism. It made him sad, though, to experience how her perception of him changed while he looked on. Probably just a taste of what would happen many times down the line. "I hardly dare to ask," he said, "But could I talk to India for a moment?"

"She's still your daughter," Elsa said. "I'll get her."


	4. Not Quite As Expected

Tom was on the recliner in front of the bay windows, reading on his iPad, when Chris came down the stairs. He looked up, the warm compassion in his eyes almost too much for Chris.

"Hey," he said. "How's it been going?"

Chris just shook his head. "Can we not talk about it for a moment?"

"Sure." Tom put the iPad in his lap. "What do you want to do?"

Without another word, Chris grabbed a soft blanket off the sofa and made his way over to the recliner. Tom smiled at him as he scooted over a little and patted the space by his side, and Chris just crawled on, wrapped himself around Tom and spread the blanket over both of them. He settled down against Tom's shoulder, his arm around his middle, and closed his eyes, doing his best to simply shut out the rest of the world.

Tom's arm wrapped around his shoulder and he felt his lover's warm lips on his forehead. "That bad?"

Chris just nodded. He felt Tom's thumb caress the skin under his ear and another kiss, and then he just held him, rubbing his shoulder while he read.

It felt good. It felt good to have this time-out, that Tom wasn't pestering him with questions, that he wasn't a quivering mess waiting whether Chris had possibly decided to go back to Elsa.

 _I want this so badly. I want you so badly._ Chris' arm contracted around Tom. _I want this to be my future and the place where I can go when things go just bad. And I want this for the rest of my life._

He felt Tom shift after a while, and his thumb caressing his cheek as he trained his attention on him.

"You know if you want to talk, I'm here," Tom said gently.

Chris sighed, not really ready to leave this warm cocoon and face what he had done. He shifted his hand to Tom's chest and rubbed it, enjoying the warmth under his skin, and the way Tom's muscles shifted when he leaned over him to kiss his forehead again.

"Just thought how much I love being with you," he murmured. "How I don't want it to end."

"Chris..."

"… and how little right I have to hope for anything like that as I'm just breaking another promise I've made." He hid his face against Tom's shoulder and drew a shuddering breath. "How little my word counts these days."

"Your word counts for me," Tom said, gently insistent. "And I want to believe we have a future ahead of us."

"Why have you not been with anyone since Susannah?" Chris wanted to know.

Tom's eyebrows shot up. "That's what you want to talk about?"

"If it had anything to do with me," Chris said truthfully.

Tom laughed. "It's good to see that your opinion of yourself hasn't suffered." He squeezed his shoulders.

"I want to know if it felt anything like it feels now with me and Elsa," Chris said.

"Oh. Well." Tom drew his lower lip through his teeth, thinking. "I don't know. Probably not. Things just petered out at some point."

"Why?"

Tom sighed and put his iPad away for good. "I guess," he said, "and I'm not really proud of that, I was together with her because I just didn't want to be alone any more. So I didn't put a lot of effort into it and didn't pay the amount of attention to her that she expected and deserved."

"And why didn't you keep looking?"

"Didn't seem much of a point to it," Tom said. He swallowed. "I couldn't have you."

Chris got on all fours and licked at Tom's lips, and then kissed him. His eyes closed as he concentrated on the mobile lips under his, the way Tom tasted, his tongue receiving him, the way his lips opened and his breath flowed from Tom into him, and back again, so effortlessly, so right.

Chris' voice was rough when he finally spoke. "I want to tell you that I'll be here and I won't leave, and I don't know what right I have to say anything like that, and why you would believe me," he said.

"That is what you come back with when you're breaking up with your wife?" Tom asked. "Chris."

Chris felt Tom's arms slide around his neck and he kissed him again. "I don't ever want to hurt anyone like that ever again," he said. "Never. I don't ever want to hurt you like that. I need you to know that."

"Okay."

"Tom if I ever do, you have my permission to break up with me on the spot, hit me, whatever you want to do."

"Chris, you're not a bad person." He felt Tom's hands against the sides of his face. "I wouldn't be with you if you were."

"I'm not sure I can believe that right now. Tom, I've done a terrible, terrible thing."

Tom kept looking at him, studying him, as if he was memorizing every bit of him. "And as long as doing it hurts you this much, I believe in you," he said.

Chris drew up one leg. "I want to be there for her," he said. "I want to tell her it'll be okay. I still love her, you know."

"I know."

"Just that there is no question that I love you more, and that I want to be with you and it'll always come back to that question and I'll always have to tell her, no, my place is with Tom. There is no way back. But it hurts. It hurts me to see her suffer just because I have found what makes me so happy I want the whole world to know. It's just not fair."

"No." Tom was stroking over his hair, his brow knitted. "It's not fair at all. But you have a right to be happy, and so do I. And I need you, too, you know. I can't go back, either. I can't go back anymore and pretend I don't love you and that I could give you up again. I need you to break up with her so you can be with me."

It was such a brazen statement of ownership, and of taking on responsibility for his, Chris, actions. Tom would not break up with him over this because he, himself, was asking him to do it. And for just a split second, he was appalled, that Tom would ask this of him for his own sake. And then he realized just exactly what Tom was doing for him, trying to shoulder an equal part of his burden as if it had been his idea in the first place and he hadn't been agonizing about it for a whole day, and probably still was.

"I really don't deserve you," Chris said.

"Probably not, but you're now fucking stuck with me," Tom said brazenly. "You now have a responsibility towards me, too."

"Yeah." Chris smiled. He took a deep breath. He really wanted to ask Tom to marry him already but kept his mouth shut. It wasn't easy.

"Now can you give me a short summary of what happened?" Tom asked, his thumb brushing over Chris' lower lip.

"Not much." Chris sighed. "We talked, and I told her. And she couldn't believe it. Who would?" He rubbed his brow. "She kept asking me why I chose you over her. I... I couldn't tell her." He looked pleadingly at Tom. "She kept asking me if I was gay. I said I didn't know but when she kept going on about why I want to be with you more than I want to be with her, I said it's because you're a man and she isn't. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because it isn't even half of why I want to be with you, and because I know how you feel about being called gay."

Tom snorted derisively. "I am a man. I love making love to you. You're also a man. If I said I didn't love your body and that I don't enjoy your cock I would be completely lying, which I'm not in the habit of. I am pretty gay for you, Chris Hemsworth."

Chris blinked. "I guess wanting to take your cock up my ass is not the most straight thing to do, either."

Tom laughed. "Probably not."

"Hell." Chris squeezed himself beside Tom against the headboard and entwined their hands. "Now that I think about it... wait, what's that on your tablet, Tom?" He was suddenly distracted by the images on Tom's iPad, which was lying on his knees.

"Research." Tom crunched up his nose and blushed.

Chris' eyebrows shot up. "Research," he deadpanned, happy to get off the heavy topics for a moment. He leaned forward and snatched the tablet, looking meaningfully at Tom. "Research for... holy shit, Tom." He laughed. "This is what you've been reading while I was upstairs?"

"I needed some distraction," Tom admitted. "Thinking about good things seemed like a reasonable option."

Chris chuckled to himself, getting comfortable against Tom's shoulder while he was browsing the page Tom had open. It was an advice site for gay men and this particular page was going into the intricacies of anal intercourse. Chris shook his head as he thumbed down the page.

"I'm worried I would hurt you if we tried it," Tom said, sliding an arm around his shoulder and kissing his temple. "So I thought I'd read into it."

Chris looked at him, blinking. "You are so the best boyfriend ever," he said, admiration in his voice.

"First time you're calling me your boyfriend." Tom chuckled. "Wow."

"I know. It does feel weird when I say it, but brother is just out of the window now," Chris said decisively. "That would be too squicky."

"Oh god." Tom laughed. "It kind of would."

"And did you find anything interesting?" Chris asked.

"Apparently, if you're properly prepared and lubricated, making love to you that way is completely fine," Tom said. "I actually found out – and that may be too much information – that I was more likely to hurt my girlfriends than you." He sighed. "I'm kind of glad I didn't know that, but I've got to say I have a whole lot of new respect for the ladies."

Chris shot him a quick look. "Looks like it was meant to be, then," he said lightly, his heart beating a bit faster.

"Yeah." He saw delight flash across Tom's face and it simply made him happy. "I... actually read up quite a bit, to be honest, about other things, too."

"Like what?"

"Oh, coming out, how to make a first move, all kinds of things."

"Anything that was especially interesting?" Chris asked.

Tom shrugged. "How normal it is," he said. "I've looked through quite a lot of links and sites and there's nothing... nothing in it other than people. People being insecure, people looking for advice, people in relationships with normal problems and questions. I didn't expect that. I guess a part of me still waits for the boogeyman to come out and scare me but it seems these days being in love with a man is a pretty ordinary thing to do."

Chris laughed. "It doesn't seem very ordinary to me," he said.

Tom looked at him. "You seem to be so laid back about it all," he said. "Taking it all in stride, while I'm the quivering mess and worry about everything."

"Taking it all in stride, I don't know." Chris ran his hand over Tom's leg, rubbing it gently.

"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts?"

"No." He could be absolutely clear about that one. "But I'm very aware that I'm just in love with _you_. I've had good chemistry with other men but I've never wanted to make love with them." He shuddered. "Really not."

"Tomsexual, then."

"Pretty much." Chris laughed. He turned his head and looked at Tom, fairly aware how love-sick the expression on his face must be. "Exclusively turned on by Tom."

"You should get a t-shirt," Tom smiled.

"Heh." He grew more sober again. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Is it just me for you?"

"Oh.... dangerous question to ask," Tom said.

" _And_ evasive. I've got to hear that one," Chris said, very happy that it wasn't him under the magnifying glass for once.

"Eh, really?" Tom rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit uncomfortable.

"You are aware that the more you squirm, the more I'm going to make you tell me, right?" Chris said.

"Uncomfortably so," Tom said. He sighed. "Well... can I say beforehand that I'm nowhere near the end of figuring this out? So whatever I say, take with a grain of salt."

"Grain of salt taken." Chris raised expectant brows at him.

"Let's just say the past... um... day and a half have been a bit of an eye opener," Tom said. "I see a lot of things in a different light now, and they kind of... make me see a different picture of me than I've seen before."

It was soothing to hear Tom talk about this, Chris found. "Go on."

"I feel like... I've repressed half of me for most of my life," Tom said. "It's pretty uncomfortable, because now that I've opened that particular door, what I find behind it doesn't quite mix with what I've been raised to believe about a lot of things."

"Like?"

"Like... um... ungh, Chris, really?"

"I've told you before I don't care if you're gay or anything like that, so if this is where this is headed, it's not going to change anything," Chris said. "Besides, as you said, I kind of wing my way through all of this stuff. No doubt in my mind that I'm head over heels with you, but it's also not something I really take in stride."

"You don't?"

"No. I'm not stupid, I know it's not going to go down well with a lot of people. And I felt like a fourteen-year-old last night when we went out. I just wanted to be able to show how much I like you, but then, I felt that that would attract stares and whispers and may make a lot of people very uncomfortable." He shifted. "Have you ever noticed that Luke and Steve hardly ever touch when they're in public together?"

Tom looked at him, astonishment written on his face. "You've really been thinking about this," he said. "No, I hadn't noticed."

"Yeah, sometimes I do turn on the brain," Chris said wryly. "Don't let on about it too much as no one expects it to come with the brawn. It's a good cover sometimes. People act like I'm clueless and I get a lot more information that way."

Tom just stared at him. "I sincerely hope I've never made that mistake," he said gravely.

Chris smiled wistfully. "Nope. One of the reasons I've always liked to hang out with you. I get to have intelligent conversations."

"I have to admit that after we've done our best to screw each other's brains out for the past 36 hours, that's not what I expected to hear." Tom laughed.

"Doesn't mean I don't appreciate your... eh... other qualities." Chris laughed softly. "It's just a really good package deal."

"You really love me," Tom said, wonder in his voice.

"Yeah." Chris meshed their fingers and ran his thumb over Tom's. "I really do." He sighed, feeling very content. "But we were talking about you," he reminded Tom.

"Why does this never work with you?" Tom asked.

"Does what work?"

"Everyone else is very happy about having my attention trained on them and them talking about themselves. I get to avoid a lot of personal questions by turning on my charm," Tom said. "Why does this never work with you?"

"I want to know what you think," Chris said. "And you're doing it again."

Tom murmured something under his breath that Chris suspected was a swear word but he couldn't quite make it out.

"If it's that uncomfortable for you..." he started, but Tom shook his head.

"No, it's... I _want_ to tell you," Tom said. "I want to. I feel immensely privileged that you want to know. It's just not something I'm used to sharing, and I feel very... insecure about it. I have difficulties putting into words how I feel, or to make sense of what I feel. Sometimes I don't even know what it is I feel because... because no one wanted to know, not even me. I had to fit a certain set of criteria, and behavior or feelings that didn't fit into those have just gone ignored. So it's just one big jumble of... stuff... rushing at me at the moment and I find it really hard to make head or tails of it." He'd become quite heated speaking about this and now let out a frustrated snort.

"Look at me," Chris said. He wondered if the technique he'd been practicing with Tom last night would work now, as well. Tom's eyes were stormy when they met his. "It's okay."

"I feel like I'm learning a new language and it's immensely frustrating because I don't know the vocabulary yet," Tom said. "I have all these things I want to express but all I get out is the knot in my tongue!"

Knowing how apt Tom was at learning a new language, Chris doubted it would take him long to find a way of expressing himself. "Tell me just one thing," he said. "One thing you've figured out."

"I think I've had quite a few crushes on males while growing up," Tom said, and immediately looked concerned about what he had let out, as if he would rather swallow the words again.

Chris' heart rose. "Go on," he encouraged him. "In Eton?"

"I'm fairly sure I had a terrible crush on the head boy two grades up," Tom said. "He was in my drama group. I could hardly speak when he was around and followed him all over the grounds."

The idea of a young Tom with stars in his eyes, admiring another, older boy from afar was so precious Chris couldn't help but smile. "Did you ever talk to him?" he asked.

"I had to, in drama practice," Tom said. "He was taking me seriously and talked to me as if I was the same age."

"What was his name?" Chris asked, careful not to destroy the mood.

"Nicholas." The expression on Tom's face recalled the 13-year-old, full of shy admiration for the older boy. "I was fairly crushed when he graduated."

"Go on," Chris proffered.

"And then at Cambridge, the left forward in my Rugby team, Rory," Tom said, but his expression changed.

"It did not end well?" Chris asked.

"We lost contact when I left the team and concentrated on acting. Wasn't his world," Tom said.

"I take it nothing ever happened?" Chris wanted to know.

Tom shook his head vigorously. "God, no. But in hindsight... in hindsight it's kind of funny because people were getting really annoyed about me not being able to shut up about them. And I was going on about how cool they were, and how good, and how much fun, and how great." He chuckled at himself. "And of course, looking at what I know now, it stops being such an odd memory and becomes more of an ongoing narrative of me having feelings for... boys, or men in my life."

"And what do you know now?" Chris prompted.

Tom gave him a look. "What do you think?"

"You tell me."

Tom rolled his eyes, but leaned into him, his right hand resting on his chest. "Knowing how fantastic it is to make love to you," he said. "Knowing how fantastic it is to be loved by you, it makes sense that I was looking for it before."

"Hm." Chris made a contented sound in his chest. "Really."

"I'm glad I waited for you to get me out of my shell, though," Tom said, his voice now reduced to a rumble in his throat.

"Really?"

"Makes it that much more special." Tom captured his lips in a very soft, appreciative kiss, then let his lips trail all over Chris' face, causing waves of goosebumps to run over Chris' body. He found himself whimpering and straining for another kiss, which Tom provided, his tongue running along Chris' lower lip, his hand cradling Chris' face.

"I'm glad you waited for me, too," Chris heard himself say. "Tom."

"Hm." Tom kissed him again, and Chris willfully let himself fall into the gentle caresses, letting Tom catch him safely as he allowed himself to just get lost in them, get lost in Tom. He found himself tugging at Tom's shirt and running his hand into the gap, desperate to feel him. 

"I thought you were too sore to make love," Tom whispered in his ear and then gasped at Chris' touch.

"I still need to feel you," Chris said. "Please?" He wasn't patient and peeled them both out of their shirts in record time, and then wrapped his arms tightly around Tom's slender frame and tangled their legs as they kept kissing and caressing each other. "God, that feels so good," he groaned. "Tom."

"I'm here, sweetheart," Tom said. "I'm here."

Chris buried his face in the crook of Tom's neck and inhaled his scent, his hand wandering down to Tom's ass and grabbing it forcefully, the resulting cry sweet in his ears.

"Slow down, Chris. Hey. Slow down. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'm here. Hey. Look at me, love." He felt Tom's hand under his jaw and raised his eyes. "It's okay, Chris."

"Just need you so much," Chris said.

"It's okay, I'm here. I'm here." Tom kissed him gently, trying to deescalate the situation. It meant that the wave of emotions that Chris could clearly feel welling up could not be channeled into making love to Tom, and he became upset. "It's okay to cry, Chris. I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't want to cry, dammit."

Tom just held him, his hips keeping up a gentle beat against his own, the skin on their chests sliding against each other, and then it was over, and all the frustration and pain over having to break up with Elsa broke through Chris' walls and unloaded in a series of angry wails and hot tears.

He was so angry. Angry at himself, angry at her, angry that he had to do this, angry that the happiness he was finding in Tom had to be paid at such a price. Angry that he couldn't just enjoy this, angry that he had to hurt someone so deeply, angry that all Elsa seemed to care about was his career going down the drain and whether or not he was gay, as if that fucking mattered.

He felt himself losing his footing, losing his sense of self, and that was scary. Between the image of himself as a family man and all these new and exciting feelings for Tom, he suddenly felt himself in a free fall. He wasn't the man he thought he was, and he had some idea that the man he would now grow into would not quite meet with as much approval. All he had done so far had been a success, and all he knew was people clapping his shoulder and wanting to be his friend. Knowing that in a very short time, his whole life would be under scrutiny from everyone who thought they were entitled to an opinion was something he did not look forward to.

"You knew this would happen," he accused Tom, and then immediately felt bad for speaking in that tone to him.

"Knew what would happen?" Tom asked, his hands on both sides of Chris' face.

"How I'd feel when I went through with this."

"How do you feel?"

"Angry. Frustrated." He swallowed and wiped angrily at his tears. "Helpless."

"Okay, now I want you to look into my eyes, Chris. Look at me." When he couldn't, Tom kept speaking. "Chris, you've pulled me through my own doubts and now I'm going to pull you through yours."

"I don't have doubts. I want to be with you. I just don't want to..." He clenched his teeth and let out a frustrated growl.

"Don't want to...?"

"Deal with the fucking consequences." As soon as it was out, he realized how foolish that was. "Goddamn, I'm an idiot. I just want it to stop hurting." He pressed his forehead against Tom's chest and clenched his fists against his hips, finding himself kicking his leg in helpless frustration. The motion reminded him of his daughter, and he started to laugh, realizing that he was throwing a temper tantrum that would make a two-year-old proud. "I'm losing everything, Tom," he rasped. "It's fucking scary."

"Yeah. It is." He felt Tom take a deep breath. "And now you have to decide whether it's going to be worth it or not."

"I wish you'd just stop waiting for me to change my mind," Chris said, now lashing out at Tom. "If you're doubting my commitment one more time I don't know what I'll do."

"I'm not doubting your commitment," Tom said, his voice cooling considerably. "And if you keep talking to me that way I'm going to throw you out."

It was like being doused with cold water. Chris blinked.

"I want to be here for you but I'm not your lighting rod," Tom said in a tone that didn't broker any argument. "What I was trying to say was that I'm very aware that you haven't so far realized what living with the consequences may mean, that you've been pushing that away."

He didn't really want to agree with Tom. "You're right."

He felt Tom shift and looked up. The other man had sat up and was now fishing for his shirt.

"Tom, please don't."

"Chris, sad is fine with me. Angry goes to the punching bag. I'm not a punching bag." He pulled on his shirt. "We have one downstairs. Do you want to use it?"

"Eton?" Chris asked, finding himself very subdued suddenly.

"And mum," Tom said. "They were surprisingly consistent in that regard."

"Tom, I'm sorry."

"No." Tom stood up, picked up Chris' shirt and threw it on the recliner. "I'm not ready for apologies yet."

Chris blinked. His heart was racing and the blood pounding in his ears, but not for good reasons. "You can't just walk away right now," he accused Tom.

"Watch me." Tom said. "Take a time-out, Chris."

"We are talking about something. You said you'd be there for me." It sounded insolent even in his own ears.

"You're throwing a temper tantrum," Tom said, his voice ice cold now. "You behave like an angry six-year old with no impulse control. And while I understand where it's coming from and why this is difficult for you, I won't have you, or anyone else, speak to me like that. If we are to stay together, this is no way to resolve a conflict." His nostrils flared. "I want you to respect me, Chris. I'm not your punching bag."

Chris let out a frustrated wail and picked up his shirt, pulling it over his head. "I'm not... I'm not..."

"Chris, just..." Tom blew out a breath. "I need a break." He picked up his iPad. "I see you later."

Fuming, Chris could only watch Tom pass around the sofa and into the bedroom. The door behind him was firmly shut.

"Is this what it's going to be, when you're upset, you're just walking away?" He called after Tom. He couldn't know if the other man would hear him, and he wasn't sure he even wanted him to. He just wanted to stop feeling like this, like something was sitting square in his throat and threatened to choke him, and making love with Tom was a way to get out of it. And now Tom had just refused to go there and removed himself from the scene and left Chris alone with his misery, and that made him angry all over again. He contemplated going after Tom to argue some more, but then thought better of it. A tiny portion of his brain was warning him that he may do permanent damage if he went in there in the state he was in right now, and he had enough reasoning left to realize that that was not something he wanted.

He pulled over his cardigan and put it on, already feeling miserable about what he'd done. The blanket was still warm with Tom's body heat and when he fluffed the pillow and put it back in its place against the headboard, it smelled like Tom, too. "You love him, you idiot," he scolded himself. "What the fuck are you doing?" But the embers of his helplessness and anger were still glowing hotly in his belly. Standing above the neatly made up recliner, he put his hands to his hips and sighed and then slowly made his way over to the bedroom door and knocked.

"Yeah?" he heard Tom's voice from inside. It sounded wary.

"You said something about a punching bag?" Chris said through the door. He heard some movement from the other side of the door, and steps, and then Tom opened the door.

"We have one in the basement," Tom said.

"Do you think I could use it?" Chris wiped at his nose, hardly capable of looking at Tom.

Tom pushed past him wordlessly, and Chris followed him to the hallway, where Tom picked a set of keys off the headboard. "Follow the staircase to the ground floor," he explained. "There's a door leading to the basement. You can open it with this key." He showed the one he meant. "Go down the set of stairs, then take a left, go straight, there is a room you can open with this key." He pulled a smaller one. "Every tenant is keeping some sort of fitness equipment in there and the downstairs neighbor hung a punching bag. Have fun with it." He handed the keys to Chris. "Take a set of flat keys so you can let yourself back in." He nodded, then walked past Chris and went back to the bedroom.

It left Chris a little bewildered and sheepish. This was not the super-polite, super-helpful Hiddleston he'd known so far. He'd managed to piss him off on a grand scale, but obscenely, since he was feeling like shit himself, it felt good to see that others did, as well. 

Chris grabbed both sets of keys and made his way downstairs.


	5. Adjusting

Tom heard the door clap behind Chris and immediately deflated. Rationally, he could very well understand where Chris was coming from, and what was going on, and to be honest, he had expected something like this to happen.

Emotionally, he felt like someone had hit him in the gut. He walked over to the bed and dropped onto it, belly-first. Then he groaned. Loudly. And one of his fists hit a pillow while he was swearing into the mattress like the good English boy that he was.

He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the little array of sex supplements that Chris had arranged so neatly upon the nightstand. It all became one blur right now, being upset at Chris, being in love with Chris, wanting to make love with Chris, wanting to throw him out of the house for behaving like a child, and wanting to fuck him into the next week to teach him to behave. Tom allowed the sum of his emotion, this wild, unpredictable mix, to wash over him. It felt good to feel something. It felt good that Chris made him feel something, and he didn't really mind that it was such a mix of differing emotions. It meant that Chris mattered to him, and he hadn't let himself allow to experience that for too many years to not relish this now.

"You're going to be my death, Hemsworth," he groaned, and at the same time, he loved it. Loved feeling so alive, loved that Chris was so passionate in every way. Absurdly, this episode made him love Chris even more. He laughed when he caught himself thinking that the make-up sex would be awesome. Once Chris realized he'd been in the wrong, Tom expected him to be very contrite. Either that, or he would pout with him for the rest of the day for treating him like a child – which he had earned, no doubt. Even then, Tom was very aware exactly how much Chris loved to touch him and make love to him. A whole afternoon pouting and pretending to be upset with him would most likely unload in a bout of really remarkable, passionate sex.

He felt himself growing hard all over again. He hadn't felt this aroused in... never, really. Now that this door had been opened, the clarity of feeling so pure, his desires so clear, his body demanded satisfaction. His mind did, too. He could not get enough of Chris, of his scent, his voice, the way his body felt under his hands, the sounds he made when they made love, the scratch of his beard against his skin, the helpless adoration in his big blue eyes, the way he kissed, smelled, tasted... everything about Chris was fantastic.

So fantastic, indeed, that Tom already saw himself go after him, finding him in the basement, laboring over the punching bag, the muscles in his shoulders straining against the fabric of his tight shirt. He'd be sweaty, and a bit surprised about Tom coming after him, and he would try to argue with him again, but Tom would just lock the door behind them and shove him against the next wall, face first, and, holding him down against his shoulders, would tell him that he would now teach him a lesson about how to behave properly.

The fantasy went down from there, literally, ending with Chris in a very subdued, but incredibly satisfied, sweaty heap at his feet, covered in his come. And that was when Tom realized that he was frantically working his cock and was coming onto his stomach in white, powerful strips of semen, arcing off the bed as a deep moan was wrenched from his throat. The orgasm felt good, slamming through his whole body, and Tom chuckled to himself as he released, amused by his own libido and the never ending ways in which Chris turned him on.

"Eight times and the moment you're out the door, I'm jerking off to you. Good lord, Chris." He groaned, laughing at himself. "What have you done to me?" His cock twitched and he looked down at it. "You're kidding me," he said. "Down, boy." Then laughed some more.

  
  


* * *

  
  


He changed out of his soiled cardigan into a comfortable woolen jumper, then flopped back onto the bed and tried to place a call to Luke, but the line was busy, so he called his mum. As expected, she was disappointed that they would not be there for tea.

"But you can bring Chris along," she said. "We all love him and I haven't seen him in a while."

"We need some time to rehearse this afternoon," he said, contemplating the ceiling as he talked to her. "I'm really sorry, mum. Another time, I promise."

"I shouldn't be surprised," she said. "You always want him to yourself."

Tom bit his lip and shook his head. "What?"

"You used to bring him around a lot more often," she complained.

"He has family now," Tom said.

"Hm." It sounded fairly noncommittal, but Tom knew his mum.

"What?" he asked.

"I shouldn't say this but I do resent that they keep him from visiting," she said. "I miss my other son."

"I'll tell him." His mother had fully embraced this brother from another mother theme. "I was wondering if you could pack us lunch, actually," he admitted. "Chris is eating me out of home and hearth."

"Only if you boys both come up and say hello," she said indulgently.

"We can do that." Tom smiled. He wanted to tell her, he really did. He wanted her to embrace Chris as part of the family, and be happy for them, happy for herself that she would keep "her other son" for the rest of their natural lives. "He'll like that."

"When will you be by?" she asked. "Just so I'll have lunch ready by the time you come."

"Good question," he said. "I would say, two?"

"I'll be here."

  
  


* * *

  
  


He hung up soon after, intent on finding Chris to let him know that he would have to be done soon because they had to leave. His phone rang again as he sat up. Expecting Luke to call him back, he picked up without looking at the display.

"Yes?"

"Tom, are you telling my husband not to take my calls?"

It was Elsa. Tom blinked.

"What? No."

"I've been trying to call him for the past twenty minutes and he hasn't answered his phone."

"So you're calling me?" He rubbed his forehead.

"I figured I'd go right to the source of the problem," she said succinctly. "Please put him on right now."

Her tone brushed him the completely wrong way. "Elsa, this is my line, not Chris'," he said. "If Chris wants to talk to you, he'll call you back."

"Tell him," she insisted.

"He's not here right now," Tom said, irritated. "And probably left his phone in the living room, so like I said, if he wants to call you when he comes back, he probably will, I have no idea!"

For a moment, he heard nothing but Elsa's breathing on the other end, and then, a simple word.

"Why?"

"Why what?" This was exactly what he had not wanted, to have to speak to her person-to-person.

"Why are you destroying our family?"

"God, Elsa." He shook his head. "What do you want me to say?"

"He isn't telling me anything," she said.

"So you're calling me? Jesus." He ran a hand through his hair. "He'll tell you when he's ready, I suppose," he said.

"I'm asking you," she said. "Don't you think I at least deserve some answers?"

"What do you want to know?" He had a feeling he would regret this.

"Why now?" she asked. "Why, Tom?"

"I don't know."

"You're as bad as he is," she said. "What am I supposed to think?"

"Elsa..." He realized he had a lot less pity with her than he had thought he would. "If Chris doesn't feel comfortable telling you, he'll have his reasons. I'm not going to betray his confidence by talking to you behind his back."

"You're thick as thieves, aren't you?" she asked. "Always have."

"Elsa, I'm waiting for another call," he said. "I'm sorry I can't give you the answers you're looking for, but I'll be sure to let Chris know you called. Okay?"

"Have you always known you're into him?" she asked.

"Okay, this is going too far," he said in a clipped tone. "I'm going to hang up now. Please be so kind as to not call me again." He hung up, suddenly having gained a whole new understanding for Chris' reaction to talking to Elsa earlier.

He got up and was halfway to the bedroom door when the phone rang again.

He swore, but looked at the display, and this time, it was Luke. He took the call while moving through the living room, looking for Chris' phone.

"Tom! So good to hear from you. Are you both all right?" Luke asked. "I was worried after getting your text last night."

"Um, yes, yes, all better," Tom said.

"Was Chris very sick?"

"I guess he ate something at the restaurant that didn't agree with him," Tom lied. "But yes, he's fine now. Just fed him the biggest English I've ever made."

"Oh, good."

"Sorry for worrying you."

"It's just not like the two of you to leave a function if it isn't serious, so of course we were worried."

"Um, yes, yes." Tom would really have liked to stop lying at this point. He sat down on the edge of the sofa. "Listen, there is something I need to tell you." He took a deep breath. "Chris and I have fallen in love," he simply said. "And we really want to be together, so it's most likely not going away. So if there is anything we need to talk about from a publicist's point of view, it would probably be good if we met soon and discussed it."

There was a moment of perplexed silence on the other end.

"Luke?"

"Um, what do you mean, fallen in love?" he asked.

"Fallen in love?" Tom said. "I love him, he loves me...?"

"Friends...? Bros...?"

"No. Lovers, Luke. Lovers. Chris and I are sleeping together," Tom spelled it out. He felt Luke was acting like a dimwitted child.

"Since when?" Luke's voice had an unnatural squeak to it.

"How is that important?" Tom asked. "I'm telling you now."

"Has anyone seen you?" Luke cautioned. "Do I need to run interference?"

"Not that I know of." Tom recalled the few moments that they had been in public. "We're trying to keep it private. For now."

"Jesus." Luke blew out a breath. "Are you serious?"

"Very much," Tom said. He heard the key in the lock turn and craned his neck. "Hang on." He pressed the phone against his chest. His heart jumped when Chris appeared in the doorway, looking disheveled and sweaty, his face ruddy. "Elsa called. She wants to talk to you."

That was apparently not what Chris had expected to hear when he came in. "What? How would you know?" he asked, a little testy.

"She called me on my phone when you didn't pick up," Tom explained. "I promised to tell her you'd call her back."

"I really don't want to," Chris said curmudgeonly. "Who are you talking to?"

"Luke."

Chris' eyebrows shot up. "You told him?"

"Just did." Tom held up his phone. "Hey Luke, Chris just came in, sorry for the interruption."

"Put him on," Luke demanded.

Tom raised a brow at him. "Luke wants to talk to you."

"Put him on speaker," Chris demanded roughly. "I'm not saying anything without my boyfriend." He gave Tom a look. It was clear he wasn't sure if they still were that.

"Luke, we're both here." Tom put the phone on the table while Chris sat down beside him, leaving a small margin of distance between them.

"Are you two insane?" Luke demanded to know, sounding exasperated. "What is this, make-fun-of-Luke-day?"

They looked at each other. Chris raised a brow at Tom, and then scooted closer and put his arm around him. "No, it's fall-in-love-with-your-brother day," he said. "Or so."

"You can't be serious."

"Why not?" Chris deadpanned.

"Because... because you're married with a child," Luke said, exasperated. "And Tom has this beautiful reputation as someone who can do no harm. Are you aware that your so far very wholesome images are going to go down the drain if this goes public?"

They looked at each other. "Yes," Tom said. "And we've decided it's worth it."

"Oh brother." Luke blew out a breath. "No pun intended."

There was a respectable silence on the other end during which Tom and Chris looked at each other. Chris drew his brows together and mouthed. "I'm really sorry."

"Welcome to the club?" Luke finally said "Or should I rather say congratulations? I'm not really sure what the right reaction should be."

"It's all pretty new to us, too," Tom said. "So... thank you?"

Luke sighed. "Who knows about this?" he asked.

"Just a few people. Elsa, obviously. Chris' parents. Becca. And now you."

"Elsa knows? Sheesh. So it's really serious."

"Yes," Tom said. "It really is."

"Very serious," Chris acknowledged, all the while looking at Tom.

"I feel like I should gift you something as a welcome to the community," Luke sighed. "If there's anything you want to talk about or ask, let me know."

"Thanks," Chris boomed protectively. "But I think we have little problem figuring out where everything is."

Tom hid his face in his hand and didn't know whether he should laugh or cry.

"Okaaaay," Luke said hesitantly. "Not what I meant but... glad you've got the lay of the land, Chris."

Tom started to laugh. "Pretty much," he heard himself say.

"TMI, TMI, TMI," said Luke. "Really. Guys. My nose is bleeding."

Tom and Chris grinned at each other, and Tom found his hand wandering on top of Chris' thigh.

"Wait," came Luke's suspicious voice from the speaker. "Now that I think about it - don't tell me you weren't really sick last night, Chris."

"Eh..."

"Oh god, that is a whole other host of mental images that I don't need," Luke groaned. "Guys. If you really don't want to go public with this right away, you need to..." He huffed. "Keep yourselves under control."

"But we did," Chris said jovially. "It was going home or giving the whole theater a show." 

Luke's reply was an incoherent spatter. 

Tom found himself laughing soundlessly, the situation so wonderfully absurd. Chris' hand found its way to his back and started to rub him supportively, sending a comfortable shiver down his spine. Chris was looking at him, his beautiful blue eyes begging him for forgiveness.

"We'll talk later," Tom said quietly, but leaned over and kissed him.

"So Chris, you are getting separated?" Luke asked. "Have you talked to Andrea yet?"

"Yes, and no," Chris said. His arm went around Tom's middle and pulled him a little closer. "Luke, it's all pretty fresh, to be honest."

"That's why you guys hire us," Luke said. "To take care of this for you. I've got this, okay?"

"That's a relief," Tom said.

"What do you want, then?" Luke asked. "I can prepare a couple of public statements that we'll only release if you are actually caught in some way – be careful, please, you two."

"If you could coordinate with Andrea, that would be great," Chris said.

"You've got it. Do you want me to call her right now?"

"If it means I don't have to talk to her today," Chris said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "If it's ever possible, I'd like to at least have this weekend just the two of us before I need to worry about what the rest of the world thinks."

Luke was quiet for a moment. "But you called me," he said.

"Because you're a friend," Tom said. "And because you would understand."

"Oh." Luke sounded surprised and pleased. "Listen... we don't have to do this today. I've got the basics. As long as you don't get caught making out in public we can always say it's the chemistry you've always had. You've been so all over each other since Thor that I don't think anyone would make out the difference."

"Wow, that's flattering," Tom said sarcastically. "Trust me, I can make out the difference."

"I didn't mean it that way. Of course you can."

"Just getting a bit sick of hearing that," Tom said. "I'm sorry, Luke, it's really all a bit much right now. We wanted to make sure that you and Andrea aren't caught unawares, but this is basically it. Chris and I are in love, we are serious about it and want to make a go at it. That includes Chris getting separated from Elsa, but he wants to keep her and India in his life if it's ever possible. How this is going to pan out in the end, no one can say yet. We're trying our best to keep it to a close circle of friends and family at the moment, particularly for Elsa and India's sake. I have no intention of humiliating them. I know it could look really bad in public, but we're trying to resolve the situation as gently as we can."

"That sounds like you could envision going completely public with this down the line?" Luke ventured. "What you're saying is full of 'at the moment' and 'right now's. I just want to know what to prepare for."

Tom looked at Chris. The other man raised his brows and looked expectantly at him.

"We've always tried to keep my private life private, "Tom said. "And I would prefer it stay that way. But I'm not going to pretend..." He sighed, searching for words. "Luke, this is really all very new to me, and I've still got a lot to figure out. I'm not sure I can give you a bunch of definitive answers as of yet."

"You've given me plenty," Luke soothed. "Really. And I do understand."

"The feeling I have is that if Chris keeps making me this happy, I don't want to deny being together with him," Tom said truthfully. "So yeah, maybe down the line, it would be easiest to come out with it because you'll see it anyway. But until we're there, we need to figure quite a few things out first."

"I'm one hundred percent with Tom on this," Chris said. "I want us to stay together and if it keeps going the way it's going, and things have calmed down a bit, I could see us coming out publicly." He drew a deep breath, and then smiled, looking relieved. "Yeah."

"Okay, wow. Let me get that down." There was a pause as Luke scribbled. "I've got to tell you, it's not going to be easy... there will be quite a few adjustments. I'll look into resources for you to check out." They heard him click his pen against his front teeth. "You have my full support whatever you decide, okay? If you stay in the closet, I'll do my best to keep everyone off your trail; if you actually want to come out as a gay power couple, I'll see that it goes as smoothly as possible."

"Just a couple would be nice," Tom said. "I have no interest in becoming a gay icon."

"Good luck with that." Luke sighed. "But that's a bit down the line, right?"

"Definitely."

"Tom, let's have tea sometime next week," Luke said. "I've got your schedule; I'm sending you a couple of dates. If you could acknowledge them sometime tomorrow...?"

"Will do."

"And I'll call Andrea and let her know, and keep her off your backs at least for today," Luke said.

"I really appreciate that," Chris said.

Luke scribbled some more, and then said: "Listen... both of you. As your friend, thank you for trusting me with this."

"You've earned it," Tom simply said.

"You've got some road ahead of you," Luke said. "Really, from my own experience, and that of many friends, it's never easy, there are always disappointments, even when you least expect them. That's why I'm telling you, please, if you have questions or need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, we really appreciate it," Tom said.

Chris furrowed his brow. "But it's also really awesome," he said. "You forgot to mention it can also be really awesome to... to finally be with the person you want to be with."

"Oh." They could hear Luke's smile, and his voice was very gentle when he spoke next. "Yeah, that part... that part rocks, and it makes up for a lot."

"I just don't see why we should only concentrate on how difficult it is when it's also pretty amazing," Chris said.

"No, you're absolutely right," Luke said. "And trust me, I was talking from a publicist's point of view. But the reality is that despite things getting easier, being gay - or being with a partner of the same sex – is still not mainstream and there will be some measure of backlash."

"We're very aware of that," Tom said, hearing how tired he sounded. "But this is coming up over and over again, how difficult it all is. It's threatening to destroy everything, and that's not what I'm ready to let happen," he said. It was freeing to just talk about it with someone who knew about it first hand. "This is really making me unbelievably happy, Luke." He heard Chris hum his agreement. "I wouldn't even go near this if it didn't. There must be a way to convey that, past all the prejudice, past all the preconceived notions, that this is something beautiful and wonderful and worth preserving."

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "If anyone can bring that across, it's going to be you," Luke said. "I swear I'll do my best to help. And I'll do my very best to keep you guys out of the press and give you as much time as you need to get things figured out and running somewhat smoothly. But you need to promise me you'll not torpedo what I'm trying to do by being too public too soon."

"Okay," Chris said.

"Yeah, me, too," Tom acknowledged.

"Listen, I'm going to leave you two to the rest of your weekend now. Again..." They heard him chuckle affectionately. "I feel really honored that you told me, and you are totally right, it can be pretty awesome, so... please let it be awesome. Enjoy."

  
  


* * *

  
  


They sat for a moment, Tom's hand still on Chris' leg, and Chris' arm around him. And then Chris turned his head and gently nuzzled against Tom's ear. "I'm sorry I lashed out at you," he murmured. "I'm really sorry."

Wordlessly, Tom turned in his embrace, his legs over Chris', and rested his head against Chris' shoulder. Chris held him, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"We need to be at Mum's in an hour," Tom mumbled. "And it takes us thirty minutes to get there."

"Do I really have to call Elsa again?" Chris asked. "I feel I've put you through enough for today."

Tom shrugged. "I can't decide that," he said. "Even though she accused me of keeping you from calling her back."

"Sheesh." Chris wiped his face tiredly. "This is just... it can't go on like this. We can't go on like this." He placed a gentle kiss on the bridge of Tom's nose.

"She was really desperate about knowing why now, why it happened, what is going on," Tom said, too tired to censor himself. "And that you didn't tell her anything."

"I don't know what to say," Chris said. He squeezed Tom closer. "She's already so upset. I don't... I want..." He looked at Tom earnestly. "I want to keep you to myself just a little longer," he said desperately.

"I know." Tom placed a kiss against Chris' bearded jaw. "Want to call her together?"

"No," Chris groaned. "I don't want to call her at all. I'm really tired of hurting people."

Tom waited for a moment and then said: "Give me your phone."

Chris groaned but fished it out of his pocket.

"You had it with you," Tom said.

"I didn't take take the call when I saw it was her and then turned it off," Chris said. "I simply can't do this any more."

Tom took a deep breath, then took his own phone and dialed Elsa's number.

"What are you doing?" Chris asked, alarmed.

"Not sure yet," Tom said. The phone rang five times, and then Elsa picked up.

"Hiddleston," she said. "I thought I wasn't supposed to call you any more. Does it not count the other way around?"

"Elsa, I'm sitting here with Chris," Tom said. "He's done in. We need a break."

"What do you mean, done in?" she scoffed.

"Meaning talking to you earlier has had him break down and... we can't do this any more."

There was a moment of perplexed silence on the other end. "Why should I care how you feel?" she asked, but it wasn't as full of anger as it could have been.

"I guess no other reason than that Chris still wants you in his life, but right now, he's so exhausted and done in that he doesn't really want to talk to you. Is this what you want?"

"And he's sending you to call me, instead?"

"No, I _decided_ to call and explain the situation," Tom said patiently. "And can we please drop the defensiveness, I just can't take it any more."

"So I'm supposed to be thankful that you're helping me?" Elsa said.

"You're not supposed to be anything," Tom said. He was so frustrated. "I'm sorry I called."

He was about to disconnect, but Chris took the phone from him.

"Elsa? It's Chris. You wanted to talk to me?"

"Chris, we're coming back to London." Tom could clearly hear her speak; Chris must have hit the speaker button.

"That's not a good idea," Chris said.

"What, so you can spend more time with Tom?" she spat. "Chris, our marriage is at stake. I can't just stay here and let it go."

"First of all, I still have two weeks of 16-hour-days ahead of me. I'll come home some time in the middle of the night, take a shower and drop into bed. On the weekend, I'll probably just sleep. That hasn't changed. I don't know how to also make time for you and India. It would mean you'd be alone in the hotel room all day, while I would be worrying on the set. It wouldn't help anyone."

"Will you go home at night so you can be with Tom?" she asked.

"I have no idea if I'll even see him the next two weeks, same as you," Chris said. "I don't know how to say this so you'll understand, but I will be very busy on the set. It's going to be the two weeks from hell. This is why you decided to go to Spain in the first place."

"That's before you decided to cheat on me," Elsa said.

"Yes. You're right. About that." Chris shook his head. "I don't know how to say it, Elsa. I think there just isn't a way to break up that isn't going to hurt you. It wouldn't help if you came back because I've made my decision. I want to stay with Tom."

"And I don't get why? How can you decide that within a day?"

"Because he makes me happy in ways you never could," Chris said. "And I really hate having to hurt you this way each time you ask me like that."

"Because he's a man."

"No, because he's Tom," Chris said desperately. "I love him, Elsa. I can't help it. I've fallen head over heels and I don't want to get up, okay? I want to stay here, in his arms, and never want to leave." Tom could hear that Chris was choking on his tears. "Do you honestly think I'm doing this lightly? He's giving me something that you can't, that's why I'm here."

Elsa was stunned into silence.

"And please stop attacking him because to be brutally honest, it's taken me the whole weekend to get him to agree to this because he couldn't stand the thought of breaking up a family. It is all on me, Elsa. He's a much better man than I am. But I am getting to the point where I just can't take it any more. I still want you and India in my life, desperately so. I want us to be friends. I know that's not going to happen from one day to the next, but I'm determined to take care of both of you, whether you want me to or not."

"I wish I'd never left," Elsa said. "Then you wouldn't have gone to see Tom."

Tom pressed his forehead against Chris's shoulder. It was so hard to witness how heartbroken she was.

"I would have found a way, Elsa," Chris said. "I've missed him so much the whole summer and I was desperate to spend time with him. I really need Tom."

"This was the best summer," Elsa said. "We were so happy."

"Yes."

"It's probably not going to get better than that."

"No." Chris drew a sobbing breath, blinking. "And I still missed him. It's not like we didn't try, you and me, and you made me as happy as you could. But there's a part of me that craves Tom more than anyone else."

"Does he make you happy?" she asked.

"Yes," Chris said empathetically. "Very much."

"And is the sex any good?" she asked, sounding more like a friend now than a jealous wife.

"It's pretty fantastic," Chris said. "It is really, really good."

"Oh, Chris."

Tom felt that he was really intruding now, and made motions to get up, but Chris held him fast. "Don't leave."

"Hm?" Elsa asked.

"Tom. He just wanted to get up and leave us to our conversation," Chris said.

"He's been listening?"

"We're on his phone, he called you, yes, he's been sitting here the whole time. You knew that."

"Not in so many words." She sounded uncomfortable.

"I don't want him to leave because the last time you and I talked it didn't end well for him," Chris said. "I don't want that to happen again."

"So it's all about Tom now."

"He is my priority right now, yes," Chris said, very straight forward. "I have not other way to say it."

"You're brutal."

"You're asking all these questions and then blame me for the answers," Chris said. "I'm sorry these are the only ones I have."

Tom shook his head. "Elsa, are you going to be okay for today?" he asked towards the phone.

She snorted a laugh. "Better than earlier."

"Because we need to get going," Tom said. "I'm really sorry but I promised my Mum we'd show up and she's expecting us at two."

"You're going there for tea? Isn't that a little early?"

"Picking up lunch and then rehearsing with Chris," Tom said.

"Don't tell me you still haven't learned your lines, " Elsa said, clearly aimed at her husband. "What did you do all weekend? Wait, don't answer that." She was shaking herself. "I think I need to wash out my brain with soap now."

Chris looked at Tom with an expression that clearly said: _What were you thinking?_

"The sex is not really that abhorrent," Tom said mildly.

"Oh _dios mio_." She groaned. "I'm not having that conversation with you."

Tom chuckled. "I'll leave you two alone," he said. "But I need Chris ready to go in five minutes or there won't be any food and Chris is eating for three."

She snorted. "Don't I know it."

Tom got to his feet, leaned over Chris and kissed him, making sure the kiss was audible over the phone. "Don't take too long, darling." He couldn't help but put his stamp of ownership on Chris, but the _darling_ clearly indicated to Chris that it was a bit for show.

"I'll be right there." Chris gave him a very amused look. " _Darling._ "


	6. Taking a Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris makes a sole decision about something big.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you sweet people,  
> thank you for your lovely comments and the kudos and the hits! You know your comments are always welcome, right? If you want to talk to me away from the public eye, just hit me up on [tumblr](http://justmeandmymuse.tumblr.com/ask) or [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/justmeandmymuse).  
> I love hearing from you!

Just a few minutes later, Chris turned off the phone, and then locked it and put it on the table. He was still sweaty from his close encounter with the punching bag, and in desperate need of a change of clothes. But even more than that, he was in need of making it right with Tom.

There were noises coming from the kitchen, so he put the phone aside and went looking for him. True enough, the other man was rummaging in his pantry, his long, lean body stretched out to reach something on the top shelf.

"Do you need help with that?" Chris asked. He was surprised how vulnerable his voice sounded, as if he was unsure whether Tom would take him back or not. Talking on the phone with Luke about their mutual commitment to each other and then facing Tom after having gone so overboard were, curiously, two very different things. The worst thing was, he was still feeling as if he was shaking inside, and wasn't at all sure he wouldn't lash out at him again at some point today. Locking himself away until he wasn't a threat any more to the people he loved sounded like a great idea to him at this point.

"Huh?" Tom stood on tiptoe and nudged something big closer by the tip of his fingers, and then the whole thing just toppled forward and he just about caught the edge of it, now a good bit out of balance.

"Let me. I'm taller than you." Chris rushed over and stretched out alongside Tom, finding himself quite close and face-to-face with the other man.

"Two inches," Tom wheezed.

"They do count." Chris raised his brow at him. "What are we catching?" He looked up as they eased the thing in question off its shelf.

"Picnic basket."

"It's November."

"The house has a fire place and a hearth rug." Tom caught one of the two handles and Chris caught the other, and together, they lowered the basket between them.

"Fire place and a hearth rug?" Chris led the way back to the kitchen where they placed the basket on the island.

Tom immediately swung back the cover and looked inside. The basket was neatly filled with strapped-in cutlery and very convincing looking plastic china and glasses and a red-and-white checkered picnic blanket. "I thought we could have a picnic in front of the fire place," Tom said. "After our walk."

"Sounds like you've got the day all planned out," Chris said fondly, finding himself putting a hand on Tom's warm back.

"Unless you're so hungry you want to eat first?" Tom said, looking at him questioningly, then suddenly laughed. "I'm sorry, my mind just went from one hunger to the other."

"Tom..."

"Can you think of anything else we would need to take? Mum is packing us lunch."

"Tom." Chris grasped his arm. "Tom, I'm sorry."

"But you already said that," Tom said.

"Not properly." Chris exhaled. "You were absolutely right to send me out."

"I know." Tom smiled, now finally focusing on him. "Are you feeling better?"

"It helped, but..." He bit his lower lip and decided to come clean. "I don't think I'm the man I thought I was."

"Welcome to the club," Tom said. He closed the basket's lid and secured it, his long fingers lingering on the clasp.

"I promised you I would keep you out of it and then this happened and now you even had to mediate between me and Elsa, and that... that really isn't what I wanted." He furrowed his brow. "And it's not what you wanted. I promised to keep you out of it and I couldn't." He wanted to say so much more, but Tom interrupted him.

"Chris." Tom ducked his head and looked at him, his hand very welcome as it brushed against Chris' neck. Also welcome was that he kissed Chris' forehead, and then dipped lower and kissed his lips, not long, just a confirmation of the bond they shared. "I hate to rush you but we need to get ready and into the car. Mum doesn't take kindly to tardiness. Let's talk on the way?"

"Yes. Wait." Chris kissed him again, a little longer this time, needing to feel them connect, and the always-present slam of emotion going through him whenever he was close to Tom. Tom's hand came up and brushed against his side, sending a shiver of appreciation through Chris. "Ugh," he sighed. "That's so much better."

"Yeah." He felt Tom smile against his lips. "It really is." Then he gave him a peck on the nose. "But now get ready, mum is dying to see you."

"Okay. Be right back."

  


* * *

  


Chris joined Tom in the already idling car. Tom had finally invested his hard-earned money into a new vehicle, after living without one for years, and the slick, night blue sedan suited him perfectly. Chris slipped into the passenger seat and the smell of new car enveloped him immediately.

He buckled in as Tom eased out of the driveway and he settled back into the cushioned seat, sighing with pleasure. "Best thing about England – you drive on the right sight of the road," he declared.

Tom gave him an amused look. "Pick out the music?" he suggested. He punched a button on the dashboard, which made the whole console light up.

"Ooooooh... technology." Chris recognized the elaborate setup, most of Tom's music readily available as an mp3 collection. He wiggled his fingers in anticipation and then scrolled through the choices as Tom navigated the back streets towards the feeder road to Harrow.

"Ah," Tom said when the music came on, and smiled. "David Gray."

"Feels like a David Gray day to me," Chris mused as the first chords of "Alibi" wafted through the car. "That is some stereo system you have in here," he said appreciatively. "Nice base."

"I splurged," Tom admitted, taking a left turn and then changing lanes. "I was told I sound like a cat in heat when I sing in the car. Thought investing in a good system was a good idea to drown out that sound."

Chris laughed. "Who said that?"

"Evie, who else?" Tom winked at him.

"You don't say. The same sister who told you you had hair like a broom."

"The very same."

"But they looked so much more like a mop than a broom," Chris teased. "Not sure how she could get the two mixed up." He laughed when Tom swatted his leg. "Have you seen the pictures of you?"

"Have you watched yourself samba lately?" Tom teased back. "I mean, really, that was some serious ass wiggling, my friend."

"Hey, you said it yourself, hips don't lie."

"Uh-huh. Those certainly didn't." Tom shook his head, grinning.

"I was young and didn't know any better," Chris said.

"I could say the same about the mop," Tom said. "Does it count?"

Chris reached over and let his fingers slide against the brush of very short hairs at the nape of Tom's neck. "This is nice," he said. "Though I wouldn't mind the Return of the Curls."

"Oh?"

Chris gave him an insolent grin.

"Oh!" Tom shook his head, chuckling. "Good thing then that your hips still don't lie." He had to make a turn into heavy traffic at this point, but Chris could clearly see his waggling brow and laughed.

He breathed deeply and let his hand rest against Tom's neck as he drove, content to feel the warmth of his skin under his fingertips, reminder of the reality of their changed relationship. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to get lost in the music and the hum of the car, content with himself and his world for the moment.

  


Thirty minutes later, Tom's hand on his knee woke him up.

"Chris...?"

He blinked, confused for a moment of where he was. "What? Hm?"

"You fell asleep." Tom gave him a fond smile.

"But I wanted to talk with you," Chris mewled, and then stretched as he yawned.

"Plenty of time left." Tom turned his head and gave him a clear view of the front of the house. Donna Hiddleston was already visible in the doorway, two toy poodles tumbling out behind her, chasing each other down the stairs and over the lawn. She waved.

Chris waved back and then looked at Tom, searching his eyes. "You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now," he murmured under his breath.

Tom blushed. "Uh."

"I know." He couldn't even reach up and cup Tom's face the way he would have liked. He mustered Tom appreciatively. "Close your eyes," he murmured, and Tom did. "I'm kissing you softly... do you feel it?"

"Yes." Tom shivered.

"I'm running my hand along your neck and pull you closer," Chris murmured, very taken by the moment. "You smell so good."

Tom nodded. "Keep going."

"You open your lips to me and let me taste you," he whispered. "Tom..."

"You taste so good," Tom murmured. "You're such a good kisser, Chris."

"I love you." He felt Tom's hand hotly on his knee, and covered it with his own.

"I love you, too." Tom's eyes, as he opened them, were dark with arousal.

Chris blinked, feeling the pang of emotion in his belly at the way Tom looked at him. "Your mum's almost by the car," he rasped. "Let's kiss later."

"Oh god, yes." Tom swallowed. "Definitely."

Chris' eyes flicked towards the window. "Your mum..." he said, and then she already opened the driver's door and ducked her head in.

"Hello, you two. Everything all right?"

"Mum!" Tom turned towards the door with a smile and kissed his mother's proffered cheek. "I was just helping Chris out of his seat belt."

"It's still on. Must have been some help."

"Eh..."

Chris pressed the button and wiggled the clasp, then pretended to wrench it free. "There. Brute force wins after all. Hello, Mrs Hiddleston."

"Donna," she insisted. "And Tom promised you'd come inside for a moment? Payment for not being here for tea."

"Wouldn't want to miss it."

  


* * *

  


The house was light and friendly and smelled of verbena. Tom had told him that his family used to live in Westminster, but after all the children had moved out, Donna Hiddleston had bought a much smaller house with her long-time partner Fred out here in Harrow, where things were a little greener and less stressful. The house still had a grand dining room and several reception rooms, including one where they could actually have drinks around Donna's grand piano, and also three separate guest rooms for family to visit. Fred had also brought grown children into the partnership, so the house was always busy and full of laughter.

The poodles yipped around Chris until he kneeled and paid attention to them. One white, one black, they were friendly and full of energy.

"Do they bother you, Chris?" Donna asked.

"Not at all. They're just very energetic," he said, running his hands over the very fluffy, soft curls atop their heads.

"They can also be very affectionate," Donna explained fondly.

"We used to have dogs out in the bush, but of course they were much bigger," Chris said.

"They're not manly dogs," Donna laughed. "But I'm an old lady now and they keep me on my toes."

"You're not old," Tom protested.

"Thank you, darling." Donna smiled at him and patted his cheek. "So, what are you two up to today? Tom said you're going to go out to the cottage?"

"Yes! Tom had this great idea to take my hopeless line rehearsals out in the open for a change of scenery."

They talked a little, Donna taking a keen interest in how the filming for Thor 2 was going, and how Chris had settled in London for the time being. She asked after his family – mum, dad and brothers, as she had met all of them in the past two years. The families were really rather fond of each other, each charmed by the cultural differences in the other. He noticed that she was studying him quite keenly, though, and didn't quite know how to take it. She didn't ask about Elsa or India, either, which was also curious. Maybe Tom had already said something? It was a painful topic and he didn't want to breach it, so he didn't start it, either.

When she had packed Tom with several container's worth of "nibbles" for lunch, and sent him off to the car to store them, Chris stood back a bit and asked Donna – under the seal of confidentiality – whether she could possibly let him in on the secret of the delicious apple strudel.

"Tom's been such a help with rehearsal," Chris said. "And he told me how much he loved that strudel. I'd love to get him some to say thank you."

Donna seemed charmed by the idea and gave him the address of the delicatessen, and he put it in his wallet for safekeeping.

When Tom came back, Donna kissed Chris goodbye and sent him out with another load of goods, telling him she needed a quick word with her son before they left.

"Thank you so much again for understanding," Chris said. "And I promise I'll be by for tea soon."

"That's quite all right," Donna said. "Work does come first. I do understand."

Chris, creaking a little under the strain of the mysterious containers, said his goodbyes and made his way to the car. Tom had given him the keys, so he settled in and got the music running again, and managed to amuse himself by popping the lids of the different food containers Donna had given them to take a peep inside.

He was through all of them and started wondering when Tom would come out when he appeared in the door and strode towards the car, his brow furrowed. A moment later, he sat in the driver's seat and started the motor right away.

"Everything all right?" Chris asked. When Tom didn't answer immediately, his mind jumped to the worst conclusion. "She doesn't suspect anything, does she?"

"No." Tom shook his head and backed them out of the driveway carefully. Once he had reached the street, he kept on driving without looking at Chris, a sharp line between his brows, making him look intense and a little angry.

"Tom, stop," Chris enunciated clearly.

"What?"

"Something is upsetting you, I want to know what it is."

"It's just a half hour up to St. Alban's. We can talk then."

"Now." Chris' heart beat in his throat. "Find a spot to park, we need to talk now."

Tom gave him a look, his nostrils flaring, but he he did as Chris had asked, choosing a to turn into a quiet side street and parking them under a sprawling willow tree.

He was still not looking at Chris, though. Chris exhaled.

"In case you haven't noticed yet, I can't stand it when we fight. We haven't even talked about what happened earlier; I'm not going to wait for you to steam over whatever is upsetting you now."

Tom's jaw was working when he turned around to him. "It can wait."

"No." Tom was so incredibly beautiful when he worked on something, Chris had a hard time not getting distracted by that fact. "Talk to me." Chris' heart was beating in his throat, he really didn't know whether he was able to stand another fight. He wasn't. He knew in his heart of hearts that he wasn't, but this needed clearing up, so he would face it.

"Why didn't you tell me you've taken off your wedding ring?" Tom couldn't even meet his eyes.

"What?"

"Mum just took me aside and told me she had noticed you weren't wearing your ring. She said she thought you weren't as cheerful as you usually are, and then noticed you weren't wearing the ring, so she thought there might be trouble with your family."

"Why didn't she just ask?"

Tom's eyebrows shot up. "Because it wouldn't be polite, Chris."

"Oh." Of course that would make sense to an English lady. "So she asked you."

Tom shrugged. "She tasked me with making sure you are all right."

"Did you tell her about me and Elsa?" Chris asked.

"I told her there are difficulties, yes, but I didn't go into details, and she didn't want to know any." Tom shook his head. "I felt like such an idiot."

"Why?"

"Because you didn't tell me you were going to do that!" Tom admitted.

"You didn't have time, remember? We were packing and getting ready to see your mum, and then I fell asleep in the car and you let me sleep. I did try to talk to you."

"You could've waited until you had."

Chris shook his head. "So what is upsetting you now? That I did it? That I did it without asking you? That your mum noticed before you did?"

"It is such a big step, Chris!" Tom took his hand and let his thumb run over his now empty ring finger.

"You haven't answered my question."

Tom was clearly uncomfortable that the spotlight was now on him. "Chris, I know you love me..."

"No kidding," Chris deadpanned. "Go on."

"But that's a lot of responsibility for a relationship that is barely two days old."

"I want you to listen to me, and I want you to listen carefully," Chris said. "Because I don't think I can say it any more times, neither to you nor to Elsa." He ignored Tom's expression at being combed over the same comb as Elsa. "I am in love. With you. I want to make a life. With you. The steps I'm taking towards that goal are mine to take. They are not your responsibility. They are not Elsa's responsibility. This is how I feel. This is what I'm doing about it." He paused to gather his thoughts and calm his racing heart. "Okay, and here is what I wanted to tell you earlier before we had to rush out of the house."

Tom had the grace to look at least a little chagrined at that.

"I took the ring off because I'm not worthy of it any more. I made a promise to Elsa that I broke. I broke it at least eight times within the last 36 hours. I take my vows seriously. I have no idea what happened to the man who made them, I just know I'm not him any more. I have no idea who I am at the moment. I'm not in the habit of willfully hurting the people I love and I can't seem to do anything else right now."

"Chris..."

"No, let me finish." It was really important that he finish this time. "When I talk to Elsa, I know I still love her, and hurting her like this is... I can't even describe how that makes me feel. But I've now also made a promise to you. Each time I talk to Elsa, my brain goes: _Did I really have to do this? Was there really no other way? Wouldn't it be better we tried again?_ Anything to not make her feel like that any more. Anything. And then talking to her makes me so upset that I lash out at you and I just want to get myself out of the way of anyone else I could possibly hurt."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Tom." Chris took his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "I am so, so sorry. Every word I said to Elsa earlier is true, I hope you know that. I'm doing this because I need... you. Because being with you is making me so happy I want to shout it from the rooftops. Then I look at my hand and see that ring and think being happy is the last thing I deserve."

"Chris, no." A car was never a good place for a hug, at least not in the front seats, but Tom managed to release both their seat belts and hug him anyway. "I'm sorry I didn't get it."

Chris allowed himself to press his face against Tom's neck and inhale his scent, just letting it soothe him.

"You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy with me."

"If I ever make a vow to be with someone for the rest of our lives again, I want them to know that I mean it, that I won't stray, that I will hold and keep them for the rest of their life," Chris said. "But I feel I need to earn that all over again."

"Chris, I believe in you." Tom said. "If I can help you, I will."

"But I wanted to keep you away from it."

"Well yeah, it didn't turn out to be feasible that way," Tom said, looking at him earnestly. "There is what we would like to have and then there's what life is throwing our way."

"It's shameful that I need you to mediate between Elsa and me."

"No, it's just... life, Chris. It's just life and people and what different people need. We can talk until we're blue in the face about what you and me want, but you are bringing two more people into the relationship and we need to take into account that they have needs, too. And we didn't."

"I thought I was this big protector of the people I love. Now look at me." Chris shook his head.

"You can't do this on your own," Tom insisted. "And I don't want you to. If it's easier to do it with me, then that's what it's going to take."

"You didn't want to be involved."

"Well, I got myself involved the moment I made love to somebody else's husband, don't you think?"

"I just want to keep you safe!" Chris exclaimed. "Oh fuck, why are we sitting here holding hands and hugging in plain view of everyone?" He started. "Dammit!"

"The car has tinted windows," Tom explained patiently. "We can see out, they can't see in. Didn't you notice when you got in?"

"Ungh." Now he felt stupid on top of everything else. "No."

"Chris." Tom ran a gentle hand through his hair and he felt like he wanted to start purring. It should have been disconcerting how easy it was for Tom to make him feel like that, but it just felt too good.

"I shouldn't be doing this to you," Chris insisted. "I'm so sorry."

"Okay, love, listen." There was a quietly amused smile on Tom's face. "If the last 36 hours have taught me something it's that if I want to be with you, I'm going to have to... hm... at least question a lot of the manly man crap I've been taught to believe."

Chris bristled. "What do you mean?"

"If this is supposed to work, we'll both have to adjust. I can't protect you from everything, and you can't protect me from everything, either. I guess we need to take turns, or learn how to take care of each other when things get rough, I don't know. I guess we can just try to manage that it doesn't all happen at once, but that's about it."

"That's not good enough."

"It's going to have to be. Or in your attempt to keep everything away from me you'll keep bottling it up like this afternoon and then see what happens."

Chris felt the same helpless anger bubble up again. "What was I supposed to do?" he asked, offended.

"I don't know. Yet. Let's figure it out together," Tom said.

"I'm just trying to..."

"...protect me. I know. Do I look like a delicate flower to you?"

"Stop being so damn superior!"

Tom's eyebrows shot up and he retreated to his seat. The physical separation hurt, and the feeling that he couldn't do anything right returned. Tom sat there for a moment, contemplating his hands.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" he finally said. "We can get your stuff and I'll drop you off at the hotel."

"Is that what you want?" Chris asked.

"What I want?" Tom laughed. "Is anything here about what I want? No. I don't want you to leave. But it seems to me we're not getting anywhere right now, and I'm so incredibly tired of fighting with you over things we can't change. You are married. You still are married. We both decided that mattered less than what we felt for each other, and now we need to deal with it. It is that or you decide that the feelings you still have for Elsa, and your sense of responsibility and commitment, is telling you to forget this weekend and go back to her. She has asked you, after all. That question has been answered – she would forgive you if you came back to her. Is that what you want?"

"I..."

"No. Think about it, Chris. Really think about it. Because all I've heard in this car the past few minutes is how agonizing it is for you to have to deal with the consequences of breaking up with Elsa. And that you still love her and that it hurts you to leave her, and how that undermines anything you ever knew about yourself. If you want to be with me, you need to be sure that it's worth all that."

"But I already told you numerous times that I've decided to be with you. What else do you want?"

Tom snorted. "Yeah. What else could I possibly want." He slowly shook his head, not looking at Chris at all.

It was very quiet in the car. Chris actually used the time to think, run himself through the possibilities. Actually thinking about having Tom drive him back. The silence in the car as they would go. Him, going upstairs, collecting his things, which he had already strewn about as if he was living there. Tom would be collected and distant and allow him his space. He would not pressure him, would not collapse until he had left. He would call a cab. He would get into the cab and wave at Tom, and then arrive at the hotel, in the suite he was living in that had enough room for him and Elsa and his daughter. He would be there alone, and call Elsa and tell her it was a mistake, and for her to come back, to board a plane, this instant, and please forgive him. They would arrive close to midnight and he would wait impatiently at the airport, just to take both of them in his arms and know that he had kept his promise, that he was an honorable man and father, that he took care of his family and would not leave them alone, would not be such an asshole. And when they had settled India, he would hold Elsa in his arms, kiss her and...

And that was when the fantasy suddenly, abruptly, stopped. She was the wrong size. He would hug her and she was so tiny he would hardly feel her. He would make love to her... and he could already feel that he would do it out of obligation, because she would expect it, not because he wanted to. She smelt wrong. She felt wrong. She was too soft, too tiny, and didn’t know how to touch him and he would have to be so careful with her, hold back for fear he would hurt her. He would lie there, after, holding her sleeping form and his heart would break over longing for Tom. He knew it. He would call him at two o'clock in the morning and ask him to take him back. He would wrap up India, take her with him, and leave. Leave to go back to Tom. Right then. Right there. There was absolutely no doubt. None.

But here they were, and even though he'd said it time and again, for some reason, telling Tom he wanted to be with him was not enough. Going for his natural instinct, protecting the ones he loved, did not work out, either. It did not work with Elsa, who had not given up until he had just told her the painful truth about how final him wanting to be with Tom was. And he had upset Tom by trying to keep him away from the way talking to Elsa was making him feel, and from the consequences he was drawing from it. Part of it was their differing approach to life, he knew. He was just prone to acting on an emotion first and thinking about the consequences later, and Tom liked to talk first, and act after. But how to bridge this, he just didn't know. He was at his wit's end. Every thing he had ever believed in was just crumbling in his hands and he felt so incredibly powerless.

He turned towards Tom, who was leaning against the steering wheel, his forehead against his hands. Just looking at the simple arc of his back made Chris' throat constrict painfully.

Why had he kissed him last night? Simple. Because he had wanted to. Because it was inevitable. Because he had longed for Tom with a clarity that he had never before experienced. Because the time was right and Tom had now wanted it, too. Because now he was welcome. Because he had not struggled when Chris, once he finally held him in his arms, had not let him go again. He could not let him go again. He had woken up and there was Tom in his arms, flush against his body. Chris' body had made the decision for him in his sleep that he had not been able to make when he was awake.

He wanted Tom. His whole being thrummed with wanting Tom. And he could not let him slip away again now. Not ever.

Whatever it took, he would do it. Anything. Even throwing everything he knew out and start over, he did not care, as long as he did it with Tom.

"Tom, I can't live without you any more," Chris heard himself say. It felt as if the words were painfully wrenching their way out of him. "I don’t want to." When Tom didn't react, he reached out to him and touched his back, just to feel his warmth against his hand. His fingers rubbed gently against the surface under his fingertips, shivers of pleasure running through him at the simple touch, just feeling Tom against his hand. "I've never been in love like this," he said very quietly. “With anyone.”

"What do you mean?" Tom asked, still not looking at him. His voice sounded strained.

Chris swallowed. His throat hurt. What was on his tongue was a horribly scary thing to say, but he closed his eyes and just said it. "I need you like I need air to breathe." He wanted nothing more than to see Tom look at him, now, have his eyes rest on him, letting him know that it was all right, that everything would be fine. But Tom didn't move. "I don't know why yet, just that that's the truth. Thinking I could lose you is killing me."

"You're not losing me." Finally, Tom turned his head to look at him. One of his hands reached out to Chris and touched his cheek gently. "Hey. You're not losing me."

"Can you please hold me?" Chris' heard how he choked up. "Please. Please don't be so far away."

The rush of relief when Tom just wrapped him into his arms, drew him in tight, and kissed the top of his head, was incredible.

"I don't want to go back to Elsa," Chris said, knowing his eyes were brimming with tears. "I want to stay with you."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Tom pressed his lips to his brow, and the strength of his hug nearly cracked Chris' ribs. "I hate how this upsets you, I hate to see how you struggle and I hate, hate, _hate_ that we have to deal with her."

"Tom..." He couldn't wait, he had to draw Tom into a kiss, and the moment their lips met he just wanted to cry. He just didn't want this moment to stop.

"I hate it," Tom said. "I just want you to myself. I don't want to have to share you with her."

"Oh, Tom." At least his world view started to realign itself a bit now. Trying to keep Tom away from the struggle was not just him heroically trying to be a manly man, it was something he had picked up because it was something that Tom really wanted. "I'm not going back to her, I _promise_."

"I believe you. I know." Tom drew a shuddering breath. "I just want you to stop hurting."

"I love you." Chris took his hand and kissed it. "I love you so much."

Tom pulled him into another kiss, one that curled Chris' toes with its searing intensity. "I hate her," Tom whispered. "I really do. I hate that she changes you, I hate that she makes us fight. I hate that she still means so much to you."

"Oh, Tom." Now it was his turn to hold Tom, and that was quite all right with him. "I'm so sorry I'm putting you through this."

"I'm not sorry to go through it with you," Tom said feverishly. "As long as it's _with you_." He meshed their fingers, gripping on tight. "I'm stupid. I just want to do everything with you."

"Okay." Chris kissed him again. "Okay, then we'll do it together." He had no idea how that was supposed to work. "I've got to learn how to do that, though, and I'm going to make mistakes and I need you to be patient with me."

"I know I really want too much," Tom said regretfully. "I have no idea how this is going to work, either."

"You just have to understand that your needs always come first," Chris said. "I mean it. I meant every word I said to you today, and that I said to Elsa earlier, it's you first, everyone else second."

"And I don't want to keep you away from the people you love," Tom said. "It's a mess."

"It's a mess of us trying to look out for each other and not listening to what we really want," Chris said, running his hand through Tom's short hair. "A whole lot of best intentions going awry."

"Yeah."

"You told me to think about it, and I just ran the whole scenario through in my head, calling Elsa, going back to her, everything. I couldn't. Okay? It's not an impulsive decision that I want to be with you. Just so you know. I'm not leaving you for her. I'm not going back. I'm staying with you, Tom."

"Maybe I need that tattooed on the inside of my eyelids," Tom said regretfully.

"Maybe I just have to prove it to you over and over again until you know I'm there to stay," Chris said. "That's okay for me, too."

Tom just hid his face against Chris' neck.

Chris rubbed his back, loving how bashful Tom could be. "How about... how about I'm... I'm going to stay with you for the next two weeks, love? Just to see how it's going? And then we take it from there?" His heart was thumping in his chest.

Tom just nodded. "Yes."

"Okay then... that's settled?"

"Yes." He could feel Tom smile against his skin.

He'd done something right. Chris exhaled. It felt so good after all this upheaval. "I'm going to be home at odd hours, love," he said.

"I don't care." Tom lifted his head and looked at him. "I just want to have you home. I just want to know you come back."

"Okay then." Chris kissed him once more. He was just moving in with Tom. It made him want to laugh. "I'll need a key."

"You can have anything you want." Tom said.

"Anything?"

"Absolutely anything."

"Let's turn off the phones and then it's just you and me. Cause really all I want right now is just you and me and no one else. Okay?"

"Yes."

"And then, Tom, please..."

"What?"

"Just let me love you for the rest of the day, okay?"

Tom blushed. "What do you mean?"

"I need to show you what you mean to me, and you need to feel it, so just let me wrap you in cotton wool and make a huge fuss about you until we both feel sick from the horrible romantic fluff."

Tom chuckled. "Okay."

"Okay?" Chris said. "Because it feels like my heart is going to burst otherwise and that would be a horrible mess in your beautiful new car."

"We don't want that," Tom mumbled and brushed his lips against Chris'.

"No." Chris closed his eyes and breathed Tom in. "We really, really don't."


	7. Realignment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [lzyroberts](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lyzroberts/pseuds/lyzroberts) and [AnaisAnais79](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaisAnais79/pseuds/AnaisAnais79) who made me take a second and third look at the story and work hard on making sure it's on the track it's supposed to be on. Love you guys. <3

They were both quiet when Tom set out on the road again, each man still preoccupied with  what had just happened. Chris felt exhausted but relieved, the letdown from the surge of adrenaline finally calming his nerves. They had averted yet another disaster. But he realized, very starkly so, that he couldn’t do this indefinitely. There had to be another way.

He looked out the window, letting the landscape pass him by, as his thoughts returned to when it had all started. He’d been so worried that Tom would end the relationship after he’d acted out like that this afternoon. Tom had suddenly been so cold and distant. While he had worked off his anger at the punching bag, his annoyance over being treated like a child had slowly dissipated and made way for true regret, and then, genuine worry whether he had damaged their relationship for good. Alone in the basement, his brain had worked in overdrive as he pummeled the unsuspecting bag. He realized that for this to work, he had to start letting go of his marriage. If he wanted to be there for Tom, he needed to let go of Elsa.

Talking to her had been the last thing he had wanted to do when he’d come upstairs again. What he wanted was to ask Tom for forgiveness and make up with him, let him know how sincerely sorry he was. But Tom had been on the phone with Luke, and then had worried more about Elsa than he, himself, had. Nothing had been resolved; the knot in his, Chris’, stomach growing tighter by the minute. And in the face of Elsa’s sorrow, he’d found himself compassionate again, and the constant back-and-forth was just wearing him out. Yes, he wanted to keep looking after his family, that wasn’t even the question. But they would still be there in two weeks. He now really needed to make sure that Tom was, too. Realizing that was the moment his priorities had shifted for good.

What he had wanted to do was tell Tom privately about his decision, what thought processes had lead him there, and how much he was doing it for Tom, and them. But then Tom had hurried him, and he had fallen asleep in the car and then it had all gone haywire. And there he had been suddenly, accused of making a decision that Tom had known nothing about, and defending himself and... and everything had gone wrong. Terribly wrong.

Tom’s reaction had certainly not been what he had expected. He’d wanted to show him how seriously he took his new commitment, and all Tom had heard was how sorry he was about Elsa. And when he’d felt cornered, he’d lashed out at Tom. Again.

And in reaction, Tom had offered to send him off once more, and that was really starting to bother Chris. He wanted to be with Tom, not perpetually sent into a time-out for acting out. He was really chewing on this one, he realized. Growing up with two brothers in a very physical, outdoorsy family had always given him an outlet for his emotions, be them good or bad. Good worked fairly well with Tom. Bad... not so much.

Chris eyed Tom as he was navigating his way onto the motorway. So Tom wanted to reason his way through difficulties? Fine. He took a deep breath, thinking about the best start into the problem.

Tom noticed that he’d looked, and smiled at him. Now that he was fully merged into the flowing traffic of the motorway towards St Alban’s, he relaxed into the seat and reached over to touch Chris’ knee.

“What’s on your mind?”

Chris gave him a look.

“That serious?”

_And_ he had him figured out. Chris rolled his eyes and sighed. He did reach for Tom’s hand and meshed their fingers, though, and feeling Tom’s hand in his own had his body react with such exuberance that it made him laugh.

“God, I’m really a hopeless case when it comes to you,” he sighed, and then just went on. “I was just thinking. Would you really have let me go?”

Tom’s jaw twitched. “Hm?”

“You said you’d drive me back to the hotel... let me get my things from your house and drive me back, and... you would’ve let me go?”

Tom’s hand cramped around his, and he didn’t look at him. But he nodded. Curtly.

“Why?”

“Because you love your family and you’re not just going to abandon them.”

“But I love you and won’t just abandon you,” Chris said. “Tom.” 

He really wanted to shake him and point out how many times he’d already said how serious he was about Tom, and making their relationship work, but no. He lifted his chin and stubbornly kept on the path of reasoning. Everything else, he had to admit with a little regret, had not worked with Tom anyway.

He could clearly see Tom’s brow contracting over his statement.

“What is it?”

It was clear how hard it was for Tom to say what he was about to say. “When... when the two weeks are over... Elsa is going to come back, and... will you move back in with them?”

Oh, god. Was he, Chris, really that much of an idiot? To let Tom believe that?

“No,” Chris said decisively. “I won’t.”

Tom gave him a quick look, then laid his eyes on the road again.

“I seem to keep sending the message that I’m only halfway in,” Chris said. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand,” Tom tried to appease.

“It’s not good enough, Tom.” Chris blew out a breath. “Okay, here is what I really meant, okay? I can’t stand the thought of not seeing you at all in the next two weeks when everything is so busy, that’s why I said the next two weeks. But in case I’m really getting on your nerves, I just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to put up with me indefinitely. And I need a space for India. I can’t just expect you to put up with a baby on top of me, so... Maybe I’ll put in for a flat, or find a different hotel to stay in but no, I’m not going to go back to living with Elsa.”

“I don’t mind India,” Tom said.

“You’re saying that now. Wait until she’s chewed on all your first editions,” Chris said.

“I can put the first editions on a higher shelf and put her toys on the bottom,” Tom insisted. “Besides, how mobile is she really?”

“You’d be surprised,” Chris said proudly. “Best flopper-over in her age gap. And wait until she walks. She’s already trying to crawl.”

“I love you. We will make it work.”

“It’s not what you signed up for,” Chris said.

That was clearly not what Tom wanted to hear. “Half of you is still thinking about Elsa, the other half is with India,” he said, sounding remarkably fed up. “Can I at least invite one half of the people you care about into my home so I can have you there with me?”

It smarted. It really hurt. Having this sudden insight into how what he was saying came across to Tom was nothing he expected it to be.

“Or do you trust me that little with your daughter?” Tom asked bitterly. “What little time you’ll have with her... because of me.”

“That’s not it at all! I’m just thinking... poopy diapers and spit-up and drool and crying in the night,” Chris said. “You’d go from bachelor to surrogate father in two weeks!”

Tom took his hand away. “So what you’re saying is... what? I’m not fit to care for her? I get you without India, but not with? You’ll live one life with your other family, one with me?”

“And as much as it pains me, I’ll have to talk about these things with Elsa. She’s her daughter, too,” Chris rambled on.

“You’re not even giving me a chance,” Tom said flatly. “I’m half tempted to turn around. Do you trust me that little?”

“You can’t always send me off when it gets difficult,” Chris said, now equally fed up. “We’re in this together now and you keep sending me away whenever it gets uncomfortable! Either you’re in or you’re not, there is no inbetween.”

“If there isn’t, let me provide a home for you and India at least for the time that you’re still in London,” Tom flared up. “You keep pretending you need to divide yourself up between them, and me. We just said we’d do it together, and again, here you are, trying to keep everything to yourself, or even better, to you and Elsa.” He shook his head. “You are so stubborn!”

“Says the right person,” Chris huffed.

There was a moment of silence, and then they both broke into laughter. When they had calmed down, Chris reached over and pulled Tom’s hand back on his knee. 

“Okay then, _daddy_ ,” he said, taking a deep breath, and then he just went for it. “I was wondering today whether we could put a cot and a changing table up in your guest room under the roof. India’s too small to play up there on her own, so she’d just be sleeping there, and you’d have to convert a corner of your living room to a play area for her. We need a baby monitor and a high chair for your kitchen. And she can’t bathe in that swimming pool you call a bathtub. You'll need a baby tub.”

“Are you sure she’d be okay up in the guest room on her own?” Tom asked. “That seems very far away from us. We could put a crib in the bedroom...”

“No,” Chris said decisively. “I have too many loud things planned with you in the bedroom.”

Tom laughed. Then winced. “I see many a lovemaking interrupted by a baby crying.”

“Welcome to parenthood,” Chris said laconically. “But she’s really a good little girl and actually sleeps through most nights.”

“Did you really think about turning the guest room into a nursery?” Tom asked.

Chris nodded. “I had it all decorated in my mind and filled with furniture, too.”

“When was that?”

“This morning, when you were out running.”

Tom gave him a swat on the leg.

“Ouch. What was that for?”

“Can you just not keep this stuff to yourself?” Tom chided.

“I have no right to take over your flat,” Chris said.

“Yes, you do. You do now, don’t you get it?”

“In that case I want a mirror and a sex swing over the bed,” Chris said naughtily. “And some room in your wardrobe, I can’t live out of suitcases for three months.”

It did make Tom laugh, and that was a great sound to hear. “A mirror and a sex swing, huh?” 

Chris shrugged. “You asked.”

“As long as it’s not a pole...”

“That sounds like a _great_ idea.” Chris had already teased him mercilessly about the many suggestive pictures fans would draw of Loki... pole dancing.

“Uh-huh. Not in your life.” Tom laughed.

All right. He’d done something right. Chris decided to plunge on.

“So... I’ll need to get my things from the hotel... all of them,” he mused.

“You could have the hotel pack them up for you,” Tom suggested.

“I could, but... that... it just feels like such a personal thing, I... I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to go get them with you?” Tom offered.

“Really?”

“In this together,” Tom reiterated.

“I may fall apart,” Chris said warily.

“Good thing you won’t have to do it on your own then, when I’m there with you,” Tom said matter-of-factly, and meshed their fingers once more.

“And I... no, _we_ need to go shopping for baby furniture.” Chris felt a huge lump in his throat forming. 

“All right. I’ll ask Evie where she got the furniture for the twins,” Tom said easily.. “We can go shopping for that next Saturday, if you’re up to it? I know you said you’ll probably sleep all day...”

“With you,” Chris said wistfully, tracing a vein on the back of Tom’s hand. The way Tom just accepted him and his daughter into his life was really rather overwhelming. “Probably sleep all day with you.”

Tom laughed. “That also sounds fine to me.”

“I mean really sleeping,” Chris choked out. “I’ll probably be conked out for half the day but I’d rather be conked out on top of you.”

“You mean I get to read all day with you draped all over me? The horror,” Tom teased him gently. “It sounds wonderful.”

And it did. The idea that they had an actual future together, that they were making plans for it, that that future would include Saturdays wrapped around each other... lazily whiling the day away, completely immersed in each other... actually living together... and doing things together... and caring for India together... it hit Chris like a brick. A good brick. A smack-up-the-head brick that told him to let go already, that he didn’t have to do this alone.

“Chris?” Tom gave him a short look, as he was now navigating off the motorway.

“Sorry, I’m being a sap,” Chris said. “Don’t mind me.”

Tom drew up to a red light and stopped the car, and then used the moment to pull Chris into a quick, one-armed hug and kissed him. “We’re almost there,” he said.

The light changed to green and he had to free his arm for the gear shift, but then he pulled over Chris’ hand and put it on his leg, and Chris found himself leaning towards Tom until his head was resting against his shoulder. The feeling that he could just let go because he was now with this truly amazing man swept through him like a wave and left a feeling of dazed, unbelieving delight in its wake.

The drive lent itself to it, as well. The roads Tom was following became more and more remote, until they were turning into a truly rural area, and Tom turned into a narrow road up a hill.

“We’re on our land now,” Tom said.

Chris just nodded. He couldn’t wait to arrive.

“Well away from public view,” Tom added. “Chris?”

“Just drive,” Chris urged.

“Okay.” Tom grinned. 

Over the next raise, they caught view of a thatched roof, and then the whole, half-timbered cottage nestled against the hill lay before them, looking snug and comfortable and as if had been painted there. But when Tom stopped, it wasn't really on Chris' mind. He waited for Tom to turn off the car and then undid both their seat belts in one quick snap.

"Oh-hoh," Tom said. "What's that going to be?"

"Roll back the seat," Chris said.

Tom reached under the seat and did as he was told, an expectant grin on his face.

Chris knew he wouldn't fit, but he didn't care. He somehow managed to squeeze himself into the tight space on Tom's lap, his left knee bumping into the door handle, his right fighting for space with the gear shift, but he didn't feel any of it. His hands reached down to slip behind Tom's back, and he kissed him, finding the other man’s long arms sliding around his neck in one wonderfully lascivious motion.

“Yes,” Tom sighed.

“To what?” Chris murmured, too busy to map Tom’s mouth to think.

“To everything you can come up with.”


	8. Reignition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Tom arrive at the cottage and find it difficult to leave the car for really good reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh... have a fire extinguisher nearby. I could've used one. Several times.

Something had changed. Tom first yielded to his caress, and then rose against him, but differently than he had so far. Slower. More deliberately. Tom's fingers slipped into his hair and he softly pulled him into a kiss, a slow kiss, deep, his tongue insistent yet playful against his own. It made Chris want to press against him, feel his body move against his, not here, not in this car, somewhere where they could appreciate it, take it slow... wait a second.

Tom was taking it slow. With him. For the first time since Friday night. 

Holy shit.

Tom's hands somehow found a way under Chris' coat, and then under his cardigan, his cool fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, and Chris shivered. One hand slipped around to his front and gently traced his stomach and ribs until it brushed against his rock hard nipple, and Chris cried out into Tom's mouth, making the other man smile. He did not want to break the moment, didn't want to do anything that would make this go away. He felt on razor's edge, afraid that any sudden movement would make him fall off or cut him. But Tom pulled him closer again, as close as he could, and they kissed until Chris' cock wanted to burst out of his jeans. He was so hard. He could clearly feel Tom's hardness under him. He wanted that, he wanted Tom, he wanted to feel him.

Now. It could not wait.

"I need you," he heard himself whimper.

"Yes," Tom said. "I know."

"Somewhere else than here."

"It's really cold in there," Tom said, his forefinger tracing Chris' lips.

Chris caught it between his teeth. "Not when I'm done with you."

"Uh-huh." Tom was amused.

"Kiss me again."

Tom complied.

The windows started to fog up when Chris could not hold on to himself and began to rub his cock against Tom's. He was very deliberately rubbing against him, one long, deliberate stroke, lifting up, back, brushing against him again. He felt Tom's breathing deepen until he pressed up, his hands like iron vices against Chris’ hips, getting the friction he so desperately needed, breaking the kiss, moaning a breathy, desperate "Aaaaah" against Chris' skin.

"Yes," Chris said. "That. Just like that."

"Oh, God." Tom threw his head back and Chris immediately jumped on the opportunity and started kissing and licking up his neck while Tom was still undulating desperately against him.

"Do you want to come?" Chris asked. "Tom?" He laid a hand against Tom's feverish brow.

"Not in here," Tom strained. "Not in here."

"Okay." Chris smiled, and placed a soft kiss on Tom's chin. "Are we going to go inside now?"

"Yes, just..." Tom shivered. "Very close."

"I know. Me, too." He kissed Tom's brow, lifting his hips off Tom's. "Shhhh. It's okay. We've got time."

Tom's hips followed his own, and Chris had to clamp down his thighs to keep him from rubbing against him again. "No," he said, absolutely breathless. "Wait. Wait." He bit his lower lip, desperate to keep himself from coming, from giving in to just rubbing against Tom, feeling him arch against him, crying out his name. Chris started laughing. "I need to get out of here or I'm going to make you come so hard you'll remember it for the rest of your life."

"Open the door," Tom said. "Quickly."

Chris fumbled for the handle and did as he was asked and the cool outside air made them shiver.

"Fuck," Chris swore. "It doesn't help. I still want you. This is going to look really idiotic, I am so very sorry."

"Do we just want to get it over with?" Tom's breathing was very shallow, his lips open and moist and so damn inviting.

"No." Chris, through a supreme act of will, managed to actually dislocate himself. He had been right, it was definitely looking idiotic how he lost his footing and fell more out of the door than anything else. His cock rubbed against the inside of his pants and it was just... he leaned against the top of the door, looking inside. Tom was in his seat, head thrown back, trying to get himself into some semblance of control. He looked absolutely irresistible.

"Please get out of there," Chris pleaded. "Please. Or I'll drop on my knees and suck you off right here."

Tom's body shook with laughter. "Like that imagery is helping me right now."

"I know. I know. My head is full of you," Chris said. "And the many ways I could make you come. Sorry for being single minded right now."

Tom covered his face with his hands. "Ooooh..." he said. "Fuck."

"You're not coming without me," Chris insisted. He grabbed one of Tom's hands and pulled, and was delighted when that resulted in an arm full of Hiddleston. "There you are."

"I am so fucking hard it hurts to walk," Tom complained.

"That makes two of us." Chris pushed the driver door shut with the tip of his foot, then walked Tom backwards against it and kissed him again, which resulted in Tom flush against him, grabbing his ass, and their cocks in very close proximity once more. "Oh god you're the most delicious piece of ass I've ever had the pleasure to make love to."

"Was that a compliment?" Tom did look a little deranged by now.

"Yeah." Chris kissed him again. His hands slipped around to Tom's front, inadvertently brushing against his cock, causing both him and Tom to hiss sharply. "Sorry. Sorry. I was looking for the house keys."

"I am your house key." Tom kissed him and let his lower lip slip through his teeth.

Chris laughed softly. "I think you really need to come, love. You're not making sense any more. All blood south, huh?"

Tom ducked his head and laughed.

"Too bad it's not summer," Chris murmured in his ear. "With no one around, I could just strip you, find a nice-looking piece of grass and make love to you right here."

"Oooooohhh..." Tom sighed. "That sounds kinda nice."

"Hey." Chris captured his lover's face in his hands. Tom's pupils were hopelessly blown. “Keys?”

“In my coat pocket.” Tom reached in and fished it out. It jingled in his hands. “See?”

“Yeah.” Chris captured it, then captured Tom’s lips again. “Cold in there?”

“Uh-huh. No central heating. Hence summer cottage.”

“Fluffy beds?”

“Four bedrooms,” Tom nodded.

“Let’s go defile one,” Chris said confidentially. “Hm?”

Tom smiled. “Okay.”

“I have half a mind to carry you inside,” Chris admitted.

It made Tom giggle and blush. “Oh god.”

“No?”

Tom gave him a look. “Please don’t.”

They both chuckled.

“Okay then.” Chris put his arm around Tom’s middle and gently steered him towards the entrance of the house. While they walked, his hand slipped down and got a good grip on Tom’s really rather nice backside. 

Tom put his head on his shoulder as they walked.

If someone was drunk on love, Chris mused as he turned his head and kissed Tom’s hair, it was them. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


It really was cold inside, Tom had not exaggerated. It felt even colder than outside, where the sun had been warming the air. They both shivered as they got out of their clothes, but neither one questioned it for one second. They had a pressing need. Both of them.

Tom had steered him towards the only ground floor bedroom, a delightedly old-fashioned affair with a low beam ceiling and lattice windows and a huge country style bed with old-fashioned, fluffy down feather duvets. They practically disappeared in the soft spring mattress, giggling and shivering as they wrapped their arms around each other, trying to get warm.

Tom had hooked his right leg over Chris' left and pulled himself as close as he could, and Chris held him so hard he was sure his fingers were leaving bruises on Tom's back. He let one hand slide down for better purchase on Tom's ass, and for quite some time, they didn't really do much than just cling to each other, shivering, their foreheads pressed together as their teeth rattled. Then slowly, they got warmer, and Chris let his hand slide up Tom's body, until it cradled his neck, and he leaned over him and started kissing him with as much reverence as he could ever muster.

He felt very keenly that all that had to be said, had been said, and further words would just be detrimental at this point. Tom knew that he loved him, he honestly had nothing more to give up to show him how much, and how honest he was about it. He'd talked, he'd apologized, he'd gotten into more trouble over it than he had ever feared he would. Enough with that. What he had to convey now, his body would do.

And it honestly made no difference to him that Tom was also a man in the way he showed his love. He only had one way to love, and that was with everything he had. Whether Tom came with different equipment and felt completely different to every woman he he had ever been with just didn't figure for his heart. The way Tom sighed when he kissed him now, the way his whole body yielded into his caresses, the way his hands started gently touching his face, the way his eyes started shining at how beautiful what they had was, that was what counted.

He gently rolled Tom on his back and slid on top of him, Tom arching into him as he arched into Tom, both of them sighing with relief at the closeness they were finally experiencing.

"Let's never fight again," Tom said, his hands like silk on Chris' back. "Please."

"Okay."

"I can't stand it."

Chris regarded him lovingly, his right thumb tracing his lips. "Me neither."

"Feels like someone rips out my heart and squeezes it," Tom said. "It's kind of scary."

"Yeah." Chris ducked his head and softly kissed along Tom's collar bone. The sounds that Tom made in response were utterly delicious. "You taste so, so good," Chris said.

"There's more if you want more." He was delighted that there was strand of quiet humor back in Tom's voice.

Chris smiled and leaned his elbows on either side of Tom's head. He rubbed noses with him and said: "I think I'll always want more." It was so scary to be so honest.

Tom brushed a strand of hair out of his face, which of course came down again right away. "Are you really going to move in?" he asked.

Chris smiled. "Yeah."

Tom drew a sobbing breath. "That's good."

"Here to stay," Chris said. "I promise."

And he suddenly understood how really scary this must be for Tom, letting himself fall in love with him like this. If he, Chris, walked away from this right now, Tom would not just be alone again with all those new discoveries about himself, he would be lost. Not forever, not interminably, Tom was too intelligent and resourceful to be that. But this moment of complete vulnerability would never come again. He would never be that Tom again. He'd never be Chris's Tom again.

Chris desperately wanted Tom to be his.

"What is it?" Tom asked.

Chris gave a soft laugh. "Weird things going through my head," he said. He tapped Tom's nose with his forefinger. "You're rubbing off on me."

"Are you calling me weird?" Tom asked, silent laughter in his voice.

"I'm calling me weird when you're rubbing off on me," Chris said. "I'm not usually that deep."

"Share?"

Chris shook his head. "I won't find the right words and if they aren't the right ones, they're not enough," he said. "I think I've done enough damage today meaning one thing but obviously saying something else."

Tom regarded him quietly. "I'm just so scared," he said. "That I'll wake up and it'll all be over."

"I know." Chris rolled on his side so he could hold Tom better.

Tom hid his face against his shoulder, easily snuggling into his embrace. "I think I'm trying to make extra sure that this is here to stay," he said. "I may have gone a little overboard."

"I think we both have," Chris said. "Hey. Look at me, love." Tom's eyes were so beautiful. "No one knows what tomorrow may bring," he said, "but do you believe me when I tell you that... Tom, I feel I'll always want more. It'll never be enough. I'll always come back for more."

Tom smiled and ducked his head. "I believe that in a second."

"Can you give me the benefit of the doubt when I'm stupid?"

"If you can do the same with me?"

They were pretty honest with each other, Chris had to admit, neither one of them flattering their flaws. They both had their hang-ups, no doubt, and differing approaches to problems and all that. Despite how deeply in love they were, it was clearly obvious that this relationship would take as much work as any other, maybe more, considering the circumstances. What they should have had was three months of bliss to get used to being in love with each other, and what they'd had was _one_ _day_ to decide whether they both wanted to completely uproot their lives, hurt their loved ones and face serious consequences in their careers if they went ahead with this. And still they'd made exactly that leap. Didn't that count for anything?

"You're making that face again," Tom said.

"The monkey face?" Chris drew a grimace and made Tom laugh.

"The thinking one," Tom corrected gently. "And you haven't answered my question."

"And I was just thinking when we got into bed that I would be so happy to just let my body talk for a change as my mouth has been getting me into so much trouble today," Chris sighed.

Tom tickled him in response. 

"Hey, okay, okay, okay." Chris chuckled. "I was just thinking that the situation is already so hard, for both of us. I'm giving up my family. You're giving up being straight and your family. I mean, what more could anyone expect? And still we're here arguing and... it's not right." He sighed. "I wish I could pull the manly man card and be all protective and tell you I will take care of it, don't you worry, but... only downside to being with a man I've discovered so far. You know the truth."

"What, that we have no clue either and pretend come heaven or hell?" Tom laughed.

"That's about it." They looked at each other. "I'm happy to promise I'll always give you the benefit of the doubt," Chris said. "But if I'm being stupid and you jump to conclusions, ask me if how you heard it is how I meant it."

Tom held his eyes. "Deal." He blew out a breath. "I'm telling you no one ever told me that before."

Chris shrugged. "We really are horribly hard on ourselves, and probably on each other. There's a lot hanging in the balance for either one of us. I guess it's natural to want to make really sure it's worth all that, you know?"

"Hm." Tom pushed him to his back and mounted Chris, which Chris found nothing short of thrilling. He could feel his blood rushing southward and licked his lips, realizing that he might lose his train of thought if Tom kept insisting on talking while lying on top of him.

"Hm what?"

"Hm, I think I find you even hotter when you insist on doing that thinking thing," Tom said. "Rawr." He playfully nuzzled Chris neck. Then it stopped being just playful when Chris pushed up against him and Tom's teeth nipped at his neck, and he could clearly feel Tom's cock going hard.

"Are we still talking?" Chris gulped. "Because I think my brain just went off line."

"Can you stay online until I'm done telling you how perfect you are for me?" Tom said. "How scary that is?"

"Stop being scared, Tom," Chris said lovingly. "Just stop. I'm here. I'm yours. We want to be together. We're both moving heaven and hell to have each other. What more could anyone want?"

"Knowing it's forever," Tom exhaled. "Oh god, I'm so stupid." He hid his face against Chris' chest.

"Okay then we're stupid together," Chris said. "Hey. Look at me. Tom. Do you honestly think I'll let you go again?"

Tom bit his lower lip and shook his head.

"Okay. See? Each time you're thinking about this... Tom... ask yourself, would I let you go again?"

"No."

"Will you let me go again?" And now finally, here they were, when Tom didn't have an immediate answer. "Tom?"

"I feel like I've just borrowed you for a time," Tom said. "I'm so sorry."

It was like a slap in the face. "What?"

Tom had hidden his face in his hands and was shaking like a leaf. "I'm so sorry."

He wanted to get angry, but realized he was just feeling helpless. Maybe this was the moment where giving Tom the benefit of the doubt would start. "Tom... please talk to me. It really hurts me to see you like this." He stroked over Tom's hair and shoulders, just keeping him close and giving him love. He was sure Tom was crying, but who cared, it was more than his turn with everything that had been happening and the kind of day they'd been having. He turned them on their sides again, just holding him, his lover, the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He was so sure of it. So sure.

He felt Tom's arms slide around him, and Tom holding on to him, and he kissed his hair and rubbed his back, waiting for the sobbing to subside, as he knew it would after a while. And it dawned on him, if Tom really felt he would always give him up again for the sake of a family life with Elsa and India, then he, Chris, could simply do what he wanted to prove his love, it would just not stick. Tom was the one who had to believe it. He was the one who had to want to dare to hold on.

"It was just so scary," Tom finally said. "We had such a perfect morning and I was just starting to think this was the best thing that ever happened to me and then you talked to Elsa and suddenly everything went to hell."

"I know. I'm sorry." Chris held him tight.

"I'm so scared to lose you again, Chris."

"I know. But I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah, you... you're the persistent kind, aren't you?" Tom hiccuped and finally looked up. His eyes were red from crying and a bit puffy and he had red splotches on his cheeks and Chris' heart swelled with tenderness.

He wiped at the tears and said, "You have no idea how persistent I can be." He hugged Tom tightly,rubbing his back. He had wanted to work hard to earn Tom's trust so he would feel worthy of it at some point, well, here he was. "Like a pesky boomerang, you know. Always coming back."

"For more."

"Yeah. Always coming back for more." They hugged tightly, each man's nose against the other's neck.

"Can we just stay that way for a moment?" Tom asked.

"Sure." He kissed Tom's temple, and then he kissed Tom's mouth, he just could not help himself. "You really have no idea how much I love you," he murmured, more to himself than to Tom, but he felt Tom chuckle.

"I think I do," Tom said. "I really do." He kissed him back, his hand cradling his chin, body sliding upwards to meet Chris'. 

Suddenly, the air seemed electric with possibility. Chris felt his heartbeat pick up.

"I'm so crazy about you," he moaned. "Tom."

He felt Tom smile against his mouth. "Same here," he said. "Chris."

And then they took full advantage of the fact that they were both naked and pressed against each other and completely alone with an afternoon to spare. Tom pulled the duvet over their heads and they kissed and touched in darkness, their breaths loud in their ears as they let their hands, mouths, tongues, teeth, the skin of their whole bodies do the talking. Chris held Tom close as he slowly made his way from behind Tom's ear to his collar bone, spending quite some time licking and sucking there and driving Tom completely crazy. He had to keep holding on to Tom's hip to keep him from rubbing against him, which Tom did complain about, but he was moaning at the time, and then begging him not to stop, so Chris thought he was doing okay. He moved on to Tom's perky nipples, and then shifted to sit on Tom's thighs to keep him still. He couldn't help his cock falling between Tom's legs when he began to lick along his rib cage. Tom arched into the caress and closed his legs around his cock and Chris thought he had died and gone to heaven.

"What are you doing?" he breathed, and then Tom's hips lifted, sliding the inside of his legs up around his cock. "Oh god, Tom."

"Please." He did it again, clearly meaning to stimulate him. But the angle was not quite right. Chris adjusted his seat and slid his hand between Tom's legs until he was situated snug against the underside of Tom's balls, then pushed in.

"Like that?"

"Yes." Tom exhaled, moving upwards. "It feels so good."

It did. It felt absolutely fantastic. Chris moaned. Apparently, his cock had recovered from this morning's exertions, and the precome was so plentiful this time that it made sliding between Tom's legs rather easy. The traction certainly was sublime, and the feeling of Tom's hard cock against the super sensitive skin on his lower belly did the rest.

"Do you," Chris exhaled. "Do you want me to touch you?"

"No." Tom bit his lower lip and stifled a cry. "Just don't stop. Don't stop, Chris."

Chris loved the juxtaposition of being the one with the spread legs, yet doing the penetration. It made him feel powerful and vulnerable at the same time, a heady mix. He pushed in, his hips rolling against Tom's, and then Tom's fingernails started to claw at his back, which didn't help at all.

He wouldn't last long but he was damned if he stopped now.

"I can't decide," Tom panted.

"Hm? Decide what?" The response was automatic, not reasoned, as Chris was very busy making love to the soft skin of Tom's collar bone and neck again while his hands rubbed Tom's pecs and nipples.

"If I rather want you to come between my legs or all over me."

"Hah!" Chris shivered, and picked up the pace, pushing into Tom as Tom moved into him. Tom's hands slid down to squeeze his ass, pulling him in as he pushed up. Chris bit his lower lip, pumping his hips faster into Tom, and then he felt it, the coiling sensation in his lower belly. "I want to come on you," he breathed. "Oh my god, Tom."

"Yes, please." Tom pulled him into a passionate kiss, making Chris feel as if he would be blanking out any minute now. He moved into Tom a final few times, then pulled out and before he could touch himself, Tom's hand curled around his cock and pumped him with confident, elegant strokes.

It was too much for him. Expelling a languid moan, Chris coiled over Tom's torso and spilled his seed all over his lover, urged on by his loving words.

He finally lifted the duvet to let in some air and light, finding the sight of Tom covered in his seed, with his hard, full cock still straining against his stomach, impossibly arousing.

"Oh my god, you're so beautiful," he sighed. He shifted off Tom and kissed him deeply, thanking him for being there, for being in his life, for making this possible. He reached down to touch him, but Tom didn't have it.

"No," he said softly.

"You need to come," Chris insisted. "Please let me make you come. Please let me see you."

"No." Tom kissed him deeply, touched his torso with sensitive, insistent hands. "Spread your legs, love."

Chris did, completely enthralled.

Tom collected his seed from his chest and spread it between Chris' legs, covering the area between his butt crack up to his balls. His fingertips caressed his hole, very gently, without trying to push inside, but Chris was already writhing under his touch, just from feeling him so intimately where he was so vulnerable.

"What are you doing?" he asked, breathlessly.

"Turn around," Tom instructed him gently.

Chris did, and found Tom shifting to lie snug against him, then lifted his leg and settled his cock between his legs.

"My turn, my love."

Chris bit his lip and moaned, Tom's big cock between his legs about the best aphrodisiac he knew. He found his own cock showing interest once more, which was fairly impossible. It had never been that way, he needed time between...

Tom reached forward and fondled him gently and he saw stars.

"Yes, just like that," he felt Tom's hot breath against his neck. "Let me have you, Chris."

Chris reached back and clawed into Tom's hips.

"Like that, hm... I love you, Chris."

Chris was too incoherent to answer, completely spun into this cocoon of sensations, of Tom's cock claiming him, of Tom's hand pumping him, Tom's tongue licking up his neck to behind his ears. He'd never been owned quite that way and found he craved it to center of his being. This. He wanted this every day, every hour of his life. And then Tom started to really push into him, his hip snapping forward, claiming him, daring him to make him stop, or was he? Chris cried out, and Tom's teeth sank into the meat of his shoulder, anchoring him, and he relished every sensation.

"Oh god, don't stop, Tom, don't stop, don't stop." He was fully hard again, writhing under Tom's insistent touch. He could not believe how good being claimed like that felt. He could not wait for Tom to be actually inside of him, filling him with his seed. The thought alone was making him cry out.

"I'm so close," Tom moaned. "Chris, I'm so close."

And they actually came together, Tom's hard cock pushing against his perineum, his hand closing around his cock. Chris felt Tom's cock pump his hot seed between his legs, coating his skin, and that was it. He tried to hold on long enough to truly savor the sensation, but to no avail. He cried out, pushing back against Tom's body, daring him to hold and anchor him through this storm of sensation and came, hard. Oh, so hard it felt like the seed he spilled was sucked from every corner of his being.

They both shook and moaned in the aftermath, not capable of doing anything for quite a few moments.

"If you think," Chris croaked out after a while, then had to swallow to continue. "If you actually think I'm ever going to let you go, you are completely insane."

He felt Tom giggle behind him, hiding his face against his back. "That was good, wasn't it?"

"If we were actually Thor and Loki, we'd have just caused a serious thunderstorm somewhere," Chris said. "Good lord, Tom."

Tom peeked over his shoulder. "Did you like it, though, darling?" he asked, nudging Chris' jaw. His eyes were shining.

Chris lay back and looked up at him, reaching to touch him. "Aren't your ears still ringing?" he asked. "Fishing for compliments like that."

Tom kissed him. His cock had gone soft and was now slipping out from between Chris' legs, leaving just his seed behind. Chris felt like the luckiest man on earth, in bed with this amazing man who loved him so well. He turned around and let Tom hold him, relieved to leave the world to itself for a moment, just wrapped up in love and sweat and sex and being so close to Tom.

"I am sorry I keep doubting," he heard Tom whisper. He didn't know if he was supposed to hear it, but he closed his hand around Tom's hip bone in response, just to let him know that he was there. "You are the love of my life, Chris." His hand slipped around Chris' neck and caressed his cheek. "You are so utterly perfect for me, every bit of you is perfect for me. How can one man deserve to be so lucky?"

Chris just kissed the indent of Tom's shoulder that he was cuddled into. He didn't have an answer, and he realized, Tom had to find it in and for himself.

But he knew that he would be there when it happened.


	9. After the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loads of love, mush, and Tom has a revelation

Chris was the one who wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and slipped over to the bathroom to clean himself, and get a wet wash cloth for Tom. He was shivering when he came back, but the wash cloth was warm, and he kissed Tom while gently cleaning off whatever was left of his seed on Tom's torso. When he was finished, Tom pulled him on top of his body and they kissed and touched, completely immersed in each other, not caring about time and place.

Chris' skin under his fingertips felt so good, his weight on top of him anchoring him to Chris' presence. When they were together like this, he could just forget that there was an outside world, other people who also demanded their attention and time, it was just him and his new lover, and he soaked it up with every pore.

They could have easily gone for round two, but instead just kept cuddling and kissing, hands sliding over sensitized skin, imprinting on each other's smell and taste. Tom learned Chris like he was reading a book, the way Chris sighed when he touched him there, or the way his breath would speed up when he kissed him here, the way he would start making a purring sound if he rubbed him in another spot, and how his voice sounded when he sighed, whispered, murmured, moaned "I love you" and "Tom" as if he was speaking twenty different languages. The way Tom could hear his heart speed up when he was lying on his chest and stroked him, the way his hand felt on his neck, squeezing when Tom hit a particularly good spot, how his breathing was deepening when Tom moved against him, how his breath hitched when Tom whispered love in his ear, how his eyes were shining when he looked at him each and every time Tom would look back.

It wasn't just about how hot and hard Chris made him by his physique alone any more. It wasn't just the excitement of the new discovery, of learning that his own body was attracted to another man's, what that meant, in what ways they could touch each other, what would make Chris cry out his name as he came. It was learning Chris until he knew him by heart, until he felt he had written Chris so deeply into his body that he only had to close his eyes and imagine, and he would be there. It was learning that that expression of love in Chris' eyes would never waver, no matter how often he looked at him, and he realized, quite profoundly, that he, too, had the ability to hurt Chris very deeply, should he ever not want to look back.

It felt to Tom that he was learning a whole new language of making love. The many ways in which they could touch each other, love each other, kiss each other without having penetration as the go-to mode of operation was quite mind-boggling. He didn't quite know if he wanted to change that, really, as it opened up so many possibilities. And here they were, choosing the most basic of touches. Their legs entwined, they lay on their sides so they could look at each other as each man stroked the other. Sweat was breaking out on Chris' brow and Tom leaned in to lick it off, then kissed him once more until Chris moaned so deeply that he could feel the moan reverberating in his own chest. He really craved taking Chris into his mouth, to feel him come on his tongue, but he knew that Chris wanted to look at him, and take in his expression as he came, since he'd been denied before. Then Chris turned him onto his back and pinned him to the mattress with his weight, which was always delicious to Tom. Chris had become quite apt in moving on top of him in a way that meant their cocks stayed in close proximity and rubbed against each other. Tom slung his arms around Chris' shoulders and felt his beard tickle him as he kissed his neck, and when he pushed up his pelvis, Chris moved into him quite forcefully. It felt divine, so Tom wriggled and mock struggled, until Chris growled deep in his chest, pinned down his hands behind his head, the other hand on his ass to keep him still, and pretty much pounded him into the mattressuntil they both came.

Tom laughed as he came off his high, still panting and sweaty. "Hmmmm, lover," he purred, tracing curls on Chris' sweaty back. "You are so good to me."

"You're impossible," Chris mock whined. "Oh, but god knows I love you when you do this."

"I think I need a lot more restraining," Tom said confidentially.

"And developing a kink already. I like it." Chris growled and playfully nuzzled his neck. "I think I have a few ideas how to keep you pinned to that bed of yours if you can't behave."

Tom shivered and swallowed. "I think I would really like that," he confessed.

Chris raised a brow at him. "I can tell." 

His expression told Tom that he was taking him seriously, and it sent a thrill up his spine. Yes, being tied to his bed with Chris having his way with him sounded really, really good. 

Chris obviously read it right off his face because he shook his head at him in mock reprisal. "Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom," he chastised gently. "Who'd've thought."

"Will you...?" Tom dared.

"I will..." He kissed his neck, "definitely...", he moved downwards, "tie you up and make you beg for more."

"Ooooh...." Tom sighed, straining against the bulk of Chris' torso. The come between their bodies squished and squelched, and they both broke out in hapless laughter.

"So far for the sexy mood," Chris grinned.

"I'll sexy mood you again later," Tom promised.

"Deal." Chris pressed a kiss against his mouth, and then rolled off. "Now where did I put that wash cloth again...?"

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was so easy between them when it worked. They both got dressed and then got moving, Chris retrieving the little containers of food from the car, while Tom started a fire in the fire place in the front room. On Chris' insistence, he also made a fire in the bedroom, "Just in case we need to be back in there", which made him giggle.

By the time he was finished, Chris had already started tea in the kitchen, and Tom joined him there, wrapping around him from behind. "You're the perfect boyfriend," he said, satisfied when Chris turned around and kissed him until the kettle started whistling. "Hm, story of our lives," he mock complained.

Chris just grinned and poured the water. "I want a tour of the house," he said. "While the tea is getting ready."

"Okay." Tom took his hand and pulled him along.

There were three additional bedrooms and a family bathroom upstairs, and a delightful snug with a small balcony up in the attic. It was cold up here, but Tom could tell that Chris was already thinking about defiling each and every one of those bedrooms, and was eying the bathroom for possibilities. They ended up kissing some more in there, even though it was so cold, with Chris' hands on his ass, pulling him in, and then Tom reversing the position and pressing Chris against the door, which he could pretty much tell Chris liked as much as he did.

"Tea," Chris finally purred.

"Spoilsport."

"And lines. I love making love with you, but I need to learn my lines already."

Tom grinned. "Also the story of our lives. Tea and lines."

"Tea, lines, and making love," Chris corrected. "Not necessarily in that order."

They picked up the tea and Chris chose a couple of containers to bring along to the front room. Tom put a few logs on the young fire and they managed to fit themselves under one blanket together while they waited for the room to heat up. Chris had his script spread out before them and they read the lines out loud, easily getting into a rhythm. It became apparent that not only had Chris retained all of Friday and Saturday's lines as good as letter perfect, he was now starting to retain new dialogue a lot more easily than he had before.

After a second read through of the new lines, the room was warm enough to get out from under the blanket. Tom poured the tea and Chris opened the containers and they had a first "picnic" in front of the fire place with all the sweet pastries that Tom's mum had packed them. After, they put the tea supplies back in the kitchen, tied on blankets as cape replacements and re-enacted the new scenes throughout the house. Following sudden intuition, Tom handed Chris a wooden meat tenderizer as a Mjolnir replacement and found himself an abandoned curtain rod as a mock-up Gungnir, and the play-acting reached new levels as they mock-fought their way across the front room, through the kitchen, up the back stair until they landed in the attic, where Tom as Odin struck Thor down and towered over him as he thundered out his last words.

It had taken Chris no two hours to get the new scenes down pat. Tom hauled him up to his feet and they clapped each other's backs, laughing and congratulating each other.

"Time for tea?" Chris asked hopefully.

"Hungry again?" Tom patted his belly.

"You keep wearing me out!" Chris complained.

"You poor, emaciated fellow," Tom said. "Hop on." He offered Chris a piggy back ride and laughed when Chris accepted. His knees were creaking by the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, but he hadn't had that much fun in a while. "Too bad we don't have those scenes together for real," he said.

"Yeah. Though it'll help to imagine Tony in your checkered blanket with the curtain rod," Chris chuckled. He untied Tom's "cape" and offered to put their things away. A few moments later, he joined Tom in the kitchen.

Tom was depositing food into the oven and microwave to be heated up while Chris went through his lines one last time. Satisfied that he had actually committed them to memory, he wrapped long arms around Tom and kissed him. "Thank you."

"Didn't do anything," Tom said, pleased. "You did great today."

"Uh-huh. You're making learning lines fun," Chris said. His eyes took on a thoughtful expression.

"You're making your thinking face again," Tom said, poking him. "What's up?"

"Uh, nothing, just mushy stuff like how happy you make me and that... I mean... did I really have line block because I wasn't with you?"

Tom's heart swelled. He kissed Chris' chin and said, "It's a special service I reserve for one person only," he said. "Everyone else can go to hell."

"Heh."

"But I'm glad it works."

"Me, too." Chris squeezed his butt. "Food done yet?" The microwave dinged in just that moment.

"Yes."

"Woo-hoo!"

The second picnic in front of the fire place was much more relaxed. There wasn't a TV in the summer cottage – if you absolutely had to have one you had to bring one -, so they had ample time to eat and talk and just spend time together. Tom found Chris the friend he had always had in him, animated, funny and great company, and he loved to watch him and hear his take on things. After they had decimated every last morsel of food and put their plates away, Chris lay back down in front of the fireplace, and then invited Tom to lie on top of him. Tom easily did so, snuggling into his lover's embrace.

They didn't talk for a while, both mesmerized by each other's closeness and the crackling of the fire, by how wonderful the afternoon had been once they'd arrived here.

"Can you imagine," Tom said, shivering a little, "that this could be the rest of our lives."

"Pretty amazing," Chris said.

"Totally worth it," Tom said at the same time. He looked up, into Chris's face, finding his blue eyes resting on him. "You _are_ the love of my life, you know that, right?" It became easier to say each time he said it. He reached up and let a strand of Chris' long blond hair slip through his fingers.

Chris caught his hand and kissed his palm, his eyes never leaving Tom's. There had been such a strand of thoughtfulness to him all day that Tom found incredibly attractive, something new that had not been there before when they had just been friends. If this new side of Chris had come forward because they were now together, he was not sorry he had caused it.

"It... it's really hard to admit... to myself," he went on haltingly, waiting for the words to trickle down from his subconscious to his tongue as he said them. "Be... because I never allowed myself to feel that way."

Chris just watched him, not saying anything. Tom fell mum in the regard of these eyes. He tried to remember exactly how he'd felt the first time he'd met Chris, back in Ken Brannagh's house. Ken had introduced them and sent them out to work out in his garden and Tom had felt like he'd had a shot of adrenaline. Giddy... immediately trying to impress this tall, good-looking, and so incredibly good-natured stranger, which had ended up in him having been so muscle sore for the next week that he could hardly walk. But he'd desperately wanted to keep up, show Chris that he could do it. Wanted to see him smile and tell him he'd done good. He'd walked around on clouds for quite some time. Every smile from Chris had made his heart soar and he couldn't believe his luck when Chris had wanted to be his friend.

_I could have loved you then_ , Tom realized. _If I hadn't been so afraid. If Tony hadn't made those remarks about me flapping my wrists and walking like a girl, and to_ _better_ _butch up. I was so afraid you would hear that and think I was gay and would not want to be my friend any more._

He'd been the one to build up the walls after that, had spent more time with Kat, less with Chris, had not been as playful, had not gone out with him as much. And when Chris had finally met Elsa, he'd been able to relax, finally exhale, going back to their playful friendship because there was no danger any more that.... that he'd fall in love with him.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Chris asked, reaching out to him. "There's whole stories playing out on your face."

"I'm having an epiphany of epic proportions," Tom said. "An epic story of failure to connect the dots."

"Connect the dots?"

"Of... of..." And it was still so hard to say. Even now, here, that he was with Chris, dammit, the man he'd had all those forbidden thoughts about was right here. Tom got on all fours, his breath going rapidly. "Give me a moment." He didn't want to scare Chris, god knew he'd been enough hard work this weekend, but his mind was going a mile a minute as everything connected with Chris that had happened to him in the past three years suddenly strung up and made sense. Terrible sense. Horrifying sense.

"Tom, you're starting to scare me." Chris sat up. "Hey." He felt Chris' hands on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. Wait. Wait." He sat up, looking into Chris' eyes. Their hands meshed. The Tom that he had been then, with his boyish crush and the Tom he was now, deeply in love with the man he was... hah hah … sitting on right now... it was as if they were reaching out for each other across time. He'd left that young Tom so alone for so long, desperately alone with his unexplained, uncontrollable feelings, that everything he had felt back then and had locked away for such a long time now came rushing at him in one fell swoop. 

_The feeling that the hand of god had touched him the first time Chris had smiled at him, the feeling that he was meant to be with this person in some inexplicable, fateful way, the exhilaration he had felt in that one moment, because the path had been so clear._.. He'd completely forgotten all of that, had just pushed it into some dark recess of his mind and locked a heavy door in front of it, and then another, and another until all that was left was happiness over having such a good friend _and nothing more_.

He was so enthralled by this sudden revelation that he didn't realize that Chris had got up and got him a glass of water until he felt it at his lips, and only the deep concern in Chris' eyes made him swallow. He didn't want to lose the connection that he had denied for such a long time, did not want to lose the thread to a heretofore unknown Tom, a former self that had not seen the light of day for three years and had been barricaded away without light or explanation why what he had felt was so forbidden that it wasn't allowed to be seen or heard.

The cold water felt really good, and he emptied the glass rapidly, and then pressed it against his brow, and he laughed to himself.

"Oh god, that's a relief," Chris breathed, sitting down beside him to rub his back. "You looked like you'd seen a ghost."

"I have." Tom smiled, handing Chris the glass. "Would you get me another, please?"

"Certainly." Chris set the glass aside and hugged him tightly. "Hey. Whatever is going on, I'm here, okay?"

"Okay," Tom squawked, the breath squeezed out of him. He felt young Tom's amazement at what was happening, and laughed again. "I'm fine, Chris."

It was unique feeling of double vision, watching Chris walk away into the kitchen and admiring his fine backside. "Yep, old friend," Tom said. "You've come a long way and boy, are you in for a couple of surprises. This is yours now." He lost his breath for a moment. "He's yours."

  
  


* * *

  
  


When Chris came back, Tom had him sit down with him and took his face in his hands and kissed him all over. Chris let it happen at first, a little perplexed, and then held his hands, looked at him sternly and said: "What just happened?"

"This will sound so crazy," Tom said, sighing happily. He thought over how to say it and then said, matter-of-factly. "It will sound completely as if I've lost all my marbles at once."

"Okaaaay..."

"But I... it was really strange, when I just said that you are the love of my life, it was as if someone turned the key in a lock and opened a door, and... and it felt as if I could remember that I already knew this. Not... not now, I'd already felt like this before and then... kind of made myself forget it." It still made him sad.

"Go on," Chris encouraged him.

"I... and I think I've completely... kind of buried that... but... I suddenly remembered how it felt when I met you the first time and... wow." He was still surprised over the strength of that feeling.

"Wow?" Chris asked. It sounded hopeful.

"Yeah, like... like someone had tapped my shoulder and said: _You can stop looking now. He_ _'s the one_. It was like being struck with lightning." His eyes went wide and he felt himself blush fiercely. "Oh my god, it does sound completely crazy," he moaned, hiding his face in his hands.

"No, do continue the horrid crazy tale of how you fell in love with me at first sight," he heard Chris gentle voice so close to his ear. "Please." And when he didn't immediately react, he heard that voice again. "Please." And felt a soft kiss behind his ear.

He turned his head and met those lips, his body alive with the sudden knowledge that _he had_ _wanted this for so long_.

"Yes," he heard Chris sigh.

"Chris, I think I loved your from the first moment I met you," Tom said. He tried to recall what he had just felt. "I just fell in love," he whispered. "Truly, madly, deeply. It wasn't just a crush."

Chris made a little sound of despair in the back of his throat and Tom found himself wrapped into his arms tightly, his legs wrapped around his body. He smoothed himself against him, allowing Chris to hold him. "I don't know..." he slowly said. "I don't know how I managed to do without you all this time."

Chris drew a sobbing breath and held him even tighter. "I don't know either," he said. "I missed you so much."

And there it was again, now, in this time, in this moment, that feeling that this was meant to be. That they were meant to be together, that this man needed him as much as he needed him, that this was good, and right. This man had been made for him, and he had been made for Chris, and that was all there was to it. 

It was no wonder that he felt that Chris was perfect for him, because he simply _was_.


	10. Stepping Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris goes back to work. Hilarity ensues.

“ _Call your mother. She worries._ ”

“Hm?”

“My mom. She sent me a text message.” Chris showed his smartphone. It was Monday morning, just after 5 am, and he was sitting on the sofa in Tom's living room, after a very short night, still in his pajamas, hardly capable of keeping his eyes open.

“Do you have time to call her?” Tom asked, putting a steaming cup of coffee in front of Chris. He couldn't help mussing Chris' sleep-rumpled hair even more, but Chris indulged him, just offering his lips for a morning kiss, which he got.

“I usually make my calls in the make-up chair,” Chris yawned. “Not awake yet.”

“Uh-huh, so you’re going to talk about the two of us with your mother in the make-up chair with the chatty-chat-chats,” Tom said, unceremoniously inserted himself between Chris’ legs and wrapped Chris' arm around his middle. “There. Better.”

Chris smiled. “Are you comfortable, then?” he asked.

Tom just gave him a cheeky smile. “I thought you’d protest if you didn’t like it.”

“Uh-huh. Keep that up and I’m not going to leave.”

“That was sort of the plan.” Tom looked smug.

Chris chuckled as he dialed his driver’s number. “Andy. Good morning. Listen, can you pick me up at Tom’s house this morning? Here’s the address.” He gave the details. “Right? I’ll see you in a bit. No, call time is still 8am.” He yawned. “No, for goodness sake have your coffee, mate. I’ll see you in a minute.” He hung up. “5 am is too early,” he whined, snuggling into Tom. “I have no idea why you’re already up.”

“Going for a run,” Tom said. “Besides, I wanted to spend some time with you before you’re off.”

Chris couldn’t argue with that, as he enjoyed it very much. “Chatty chat-chats?”

“I love our make-up girls but you know how they are. News spreading like wildfire around them.”

“I keep forgetting,” Chris admitted. He scrolled through the rest of his messages. “Oh, lovely one from Andrea: CALL ME!!!!! That’s it.”

“Real life has us back, huh?”

“Yeah, but,” Chris kissed him. “This is real life, too.”

Tom smiled wistfully. “I tend to forget that.”

“Yeah. I know.” Chris sighed as he took another look at his phone. “My agency called. So more lawyer stuff.”

“You still sure you want to part ways with them?”

“Yes. I’ve got to. They are too small to handle my offers any more,” Chris said.

“Lucky you.”

Chris leaned over and kissed him. “Not like you could complain. You’re just looking in different fields.”

“Um, maybe not so different,” Tom said wistfully.

“You keep mixing in your Brit indie pictures and short films and theater work and all that,” Chris said.

“And you’re going for the big blockbuster movies. That’s kind of nice, but you’re the right guy for it, so go Chris!”

“Stop putting yourself down, oh brother of Thor who is the real star of Thor, the movie,” Chris said. He sighed and leaned back, finally putting the phone away and getting his own sip of coffee.

“Can our PAs sync our schedules today?” Tom asked. “It would make sense when we live together.”

“Sure.”

“Great, I’ll get Heidi on it first thing.”

Chris sighed wistfully. “Not ready to take on this week,” he mewled. “I’d rather stay and hang out with you.”

“Any idea when you’ll be home tonight?” Tom asked.

“No later than eight, I would suppose,” Chris said. “But I’ll have to swing by the hotel to get a few more clothes for the week.”

“Are you okay going alone?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Chris didn’t really know that he would, but he needed a few moments alone with his, Elsa and India’s things.

Tom was silent for a moment.

“Hm?” Chris asked. “What’s going through your head?”

“Not sure,” Tom said. “Really funny stuff, like... do you want me to have dinner ready when you come home or is that too domestic? We’ve never lived together, so I don’t know...”

“What would you like to do?”

“Have dinner with you,” Tom said. “I want to know how your day went.”

“Sounds good to me.” Chris went quiet. “Tom, I’ll have to call Elsa sometime today and it really bothers me.”

“Calling her does?”

“That, and not knowing how it’s going to go with us afterwards.” He had decided to just come out with it. “So I don’t know when to call her. I was thinking in the evening, but it seems there’s very little time for us already, and I don’t really want to waste it calling her and then fighting about it with you.”

“We’re not going to fight,” Tom said firmly.

“Eh...” Chris wasn’t convinced. “I’d usually call her from make-up or lunch.”

“Or both?”

“Yeah.” It still hurt. And it would for a while, he suspected. It was so confusing to feel one way and then try not to so Tom wouldn’t be upset.

Tom carefully put his mug on the table. “Chris, it is totally fine with me when you’re sad,” he said. “The only thing I can’t stand is when you can’t admit it and then lash out at me. Okay?”

Chris shrugged. “I think I still need a bit of me, for me,” he said.

“Good.” Tom kissed him lightly. “Just leave a door open and a light out for me so I know where to find you, okay?.”

“Tom.” Chris pulled him so he was sitting in his lap and just pressed their foreheads together. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day. We’ll figure it out. I believe in us.”

  
  


* * *

  
  


“It’s not so easy,” Chris sighed when he was in the car. “Mom, it’s a horrid mess.”

Andy also had a young family and they’d usually swap stories on the drives and have a bit of a laugh, but not this morning. Chris had asked for the partition and got it. And now he was on the phone with his mom and felt about eleven years old.

“What is, Chris?” she asked. “Is Tom all right?”

“He is, and then he isn’t, mom, this coming out thing is really hard on him and... I don’t know if I can do everything. Manage Elsa and India. And take care of him.”

“Who is going to take care of you?” Fiona asked.

“I don’t know.” He found himself tearing up and starting to get a little sick of being overwhelmed all the time. “He figured out last night that he’s been in love with me since we first met.” There was silence on the other end. Chris just kept talking. “And I know how he feels because... because it’s been the same with me, I just... we just didn’t... we just didn’t go there. And we should have. I am so angry that we haven’t and all this time has gone to waste!” He heard his mother breathing, but just kept going, thankful to just get it out, without having to censor himself. “It’s not that I don’t know what to do. I want to be with Tom more than anything. Actually, that’s all I want right now. I really don’t want to deal with any of the other crap that’s piling on top of me. I don’t want to fight with him again because I’m upset about Elsa. But I am upset and I don’t know what to do.”

“Chris,” Fiona says. “That’s a lot on your plate there.”

“No kidding.” He ran a hand through is hair. “I have a full week of filming ahead of me and I’m still not done with the weekend. I don’t know how to do this.”

“One step at a time,” his mother said. “Have you spoken to Elsa?”

“Yes. She doesn’t want to give me up,” Chris said. His heart twisted in his chest all over again. “I’ve tried to tell her that my mind is made up, but... I’ve never done anything so... hurtful.”

Again, his mother grew quiet.

“Mom, you worry me,” Chris said.

“You’re in a really difficult situation,” his mother said. “There are no easy solutions, and it’s going to take time to untangle it all.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

“What would be your ideal solution?”

“I’m marrying Tom, we’re buying a big house in the country, adopt a boatload of kids and live happily ever after,” Chris blurted out. “Oh. I didn’t even know that was in there.”

His mother laughed. “There’s a vision for a future. At least it’s bright and clear. Elsa really doesn’t feature in that.”

“And I’m already feeling bad about it again.”

“You know what? Embrace that you’re feeling so clear about it. The clearer you are the easier it’s going to be for Elsa to start a new life. If you keep wobbling and giving her hope that she could win you back, she’s going to hang on for that much longer and you will hurt her even more.”

“Mom, you’re cruel!” Chris said, a little shocked.

“Chris, I’ve been there, and I’m telling you, this is letting her down easy. Don’t string her along when your heart is set on another.”

“I can’t leave her alone like this!” Chris said, suddenly furious with her, with himself, with the world. “I loved her once, mom. She still means so much to me. She’s the mother of our child. That doesn’t suddenly mean nothing just because I’ve finally had the smack to the back of my head that I should’ve had three years ago! But if I love her, and admit it, things between Tom and I go haywire you would not believe it. I can’t tell him the truth. I know he wants to share this with me, but I can’t!”

“Chris, will you let me think about this?” his mother said.

“Yes, please,” he pleaded. “Because honestly, I’m in over my head right now.”

“Can I talk this over with your Dad?”

“Sure.” Chris sighed. He felt a little better about having shared his worries with someone, but also a little worse because his mother didn’t have an immediate suggestion. As if she could still fix his problems with a band aid and a kiss to make it better.

“Chris, how are you doing with the whole suddenly-gay-thing?” Fiona asked. “Are you okay with everything?”

“I’m okay with everything that involves Tom, yes.” He had to smile to himself. “Absolutely everything. He’s perfect. I love him. He makes me so happy it's a bit ridiculous.”

“Your voice goes so gentle when you speak about him,” his mother said. “It’s so nice to hear.”

“Well, yeah, he... he’s just... I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone like that.” He sniffed, and rubbed his nose. “Anyway. That part’s great.”

“And which part isn’t?”

“Mo-om.”

“Out with it.”

“Ugh, the secrecy. I hate that I can’t just hold hands with him in public and tell everyone. That sucks. I know I’ve brought it on to myself, but it really sucks. And I’d never admit it in front of him, but I do worry about the consequences, career-wise. I’m getting some really good roles right now, mom.”

“You’ll still be the same great actor,” his mother said.

“You know how it is.”

“I know how it can be, but let me tell you, if someone can challenge the status quo, it’s you and Tom.”

“Funny, Luke said the same thing yesterday.”

“So you are coming out to people.”

“To his gay publicist, yeah.” Chris laughed. “I will have an uncomfortable talk with mine later. Wish she was gay, too, but no luck there.”

Fiona laughed. “Chris, I cannot tell you how good it is to hear you so in love.”

“What do you mean?”

She paused for a moment. “I hope you’re not taking this the wrong way but I’m... kind of relieved you’re not with Elsa any more.”

“What?” He blinked. “You never said anything!”

“Well, she seemed like a nice girl and you were happy with her.”

“And...?” He had to hear that one.

“But I like you better when you’re with Tom,” Fiona said. “I can’t really describe it, but... he’s always making you more Chris, always has. He gets out the best in you, you’re relaxed and loving in his company. Always have, Chris, don’t laugh. Maybe the two of you are only now catching on, but it’s always been this vibe, you’re each bringing out the best in each other. He brings out the things in you that I love most about you.”

Chris didn’t know if he should be confused or pleased. “Like...?”

“Your generous nature, your kindness and gentleness, the way you’re so open and playful with everyone, and accepting, he just amplifies all of that," she explained. "And it's always been touching to see how much you love each other, even before you... well, caught on to it, yourselves."

“Eh.” Chris scratched his head and made a mental note to tell Tom later. “And Elsa?”

“Well...” His mother was obfuscating. “She... she’s very career driven, Chris.”

“Yeah, so?” He blustered.

“You don’t have to defend her,” Fiona said. “But you asked my opinion, and she’s brought an edge to you that I haven’t always liked to see. I think a few of her decisions were... well... at least questionable and not always in your favor. Very selfish, in my opinion."

"She needed my help and I helped her."

"Letting someone help you is one thing. Taking advantage of them another. You were – are – married to someone who is ready to cross a few lines to get what she wants, Chris. And you're so good natured that you've sometimes let her go too far. But that's just me."

Chris was stunned.

"I'm a little worried that she'll do the same thing over the divorce agreement," Fiona said. "I'm worried that your bad conscience will make you give in on more than she deserves."

"I will keep that in mind," Chris said, but the topic was really starting to make him uncomfortable. "Mom, we're almost at the studio, I'll have to hang up soon."

"Chris, I'll talk it over with your dad, see if we can come up with something," she said. "Please don't hold it against me what I said about Elsa, I really have your best interest in mind."

"I know. Just a little early to start honing in on her," Chris said. "Sorry, mom."

"Then forget what I just said, okay? Just keep the bit about Tom making you better, and forget the rest."

He smiled. "I'll try."

"Give Tom my love, Chris. If there's anything he'd like to talk about, we're always here, for both of you."

That really touched him; it was another offer she'd never made to Elsa, but then, Elsa did not have to fear to be booted out by her family if she admitted she was in love with him. "I will tell him, mom. Thank you."

No sooner had he hung up that he was already thinking about talking to Tom again. He made a face to himself, but then opened a text window. Tom was out running anyway, as much as he wanted to hear his voice, he didn't want to interrupt his exercise.

_Pathetic lovesick news of the day,_ he typed. _I miss you already. How sad is that. xxxx_

He smiled to himself before he shut off the phone for good.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was good to be back to work, he had to admit, when he finally arrived and settled into the routine of the day. Hair and makeup was the usual relaxed affair. He was dozing in the chair, eating his breakfast, listening half-heartedly to the friendly chatter of his hair-and-make-up team as they worked, and wrote a few quick messages to people who had contacted him about one thing or another. Halfway through Tony also arrived, and they chatted a bit, then Chris moved on to the costume department.

Putting on his Thor costume always took forever, and it started out with him in his underwear, and then building it up layer by layer until he was in full armor. He was supposed to do a lot of fighting and running today, so the cooling system under his armor had to be put into place, and that needed to be just so. He did like the process, as long as it often took. It put him into the mindset of his character and always felt to him like being dressed for battle, like the knights of old.

This time, he showed up in his gym shorts to be dressed, and Paula, who was in charge of dressing him, circled him once and then showed up in his line of sight, her eyebrows raised. "Looks like you had a good weekend," she said, with barely suppressed mirth.

"Hm?" 

She tapped his left shoulder blade. "Nice bite," she said.

"What?" Chris tried to look over his shoulder, and when he couldn't, Paula turned him so he could look at himself in a mirror. Sure enough, not only was his left shoulder adorned with a very vivid bite mark – Tom had very strong, regular teeth, Chris remembered -, there were also faint scratch marks criss-crossing his back. "Oh my god."

"You must have been quite drunk not to remember that," she joked, offering him a shift to slip into as a layer on which the cooling system would be placed. He put his arms through it and while she put it in place and closed it, he was frantically thinking what he could possibly say.

Keith, the third assistant director, chose that moment to come in and bring him some coffee and a second sandwich, then took out a clip board to take down his lunch order. "Andy told me he picked you up at Tom's this morning?" Keith said. He was in charge of getting the talent to and from the set and generally keep them happy throughout the day. "Do you need to go back there tonight, or back to the hotel?"

"First the hotel, then back to Tom's," Chris said, feeling a little uncomfortable discussing this right here. "Is that a problem?"

"No, just putting in the time for Andy," Keith said, making some notes.

"Um, I'm going to stay at Tom's for a while," Chris said, "So if we have the same call time, you can get us both, save one driver."

"Will you still be needing the hotel, then?" Keith asked.

"Yes, Elsa and India are coming back in two weeks, they need a place to stay."

For the first time, Keith paused. He clipped his pen back to his clip board and seemed to think what to say, then looked up, exchanging a look with Paula. "Um... are you... is everything okay?"

He had not expected things to get so complicated so fast. He held his arms out for Paula to attach the cooling system to his chest, wondering what on earth to say. "Um... I don't really want to talk about it right now," Chris said. "If you don't mind?"

Keith immediately retreated. "No, no, I'm sorry I asked, it's really none of my business."

"No." Chris smiled.

Keith asked a few additional questions, leaving a wide berth around anything pertaining to Elsa and India, and then left.

Paula was now attaching his back plate to the support harness and wrenched a buckle close with a little more force than it really needed.

"Ouch!" Chris said, frowning at her. "What was that for?"

She just gave him a look and got the front plate.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Tom, I think she's thinking we're having some sort of wild sex parties at your flat," Chris groaned. It was lunchtime, and he was back in his trailer, with Tom on his phone.

Tom laughed. "What?"

"You left a dozen scratch marks on me this weekend," Chris pointed out. "And a fairly good sized bite mark, Mister 'I'm at a function tomorrow, bite me somewhere else'."

Tom's chuckle sounded a bit embarrassed but not particularly apologetic. "But you like it when I get rough with you!"

"That's beside the point!" Chris had to laugh. "Yeah okay, I do," he admitted. His all too vivid imagination immediately delivered a quite detailed memory of the previous day's lovemaking in the cottage, with Tom pounding into him from behind, his hips snapping forward, teeth sinking into his shoulder...

He cleared his throat.

"You were just thinking about it, too," Tom teased him.

"Like you weren't."

"Touché. Heheheh."

Chris had to smile. It was wonderful to hear Tom be so carefree about it.

"I told them I'd stay at your place for a while, but to keep the hotel for Elsa and India. Combined with the nice marks on my back, Paula gave me such an evil eye that the only conclusion I can draw from that is that she thinks we're having escorts over for sex parties."

"Oh my."

"Tom, we're sucky liars."

"You mean we get to choose whether we want to be perceived as lascivious studs or gay homewreckers?" Tom asked.

"Apparently."

Tom had a laughing fit that wouldn't stop for a while. Chris had several bites of his chicken, listening to his boyfriend's mirth.

"Is it that funny?" he finally asked mildly.

"It's completely abstruse," Tom said. "We're in the middle of a David Lynch movie."

"I'm passing on the violence and the blood," Chris said. "What are we going to do?"

"Sit back and watch what happens," Tom advised. "Honestly." He chuckled. "That is too rich. Can you imagine? The two nicest chaps on the set, and instead of thinking anything gay, they're going for dirty sex parties? Good grief."

"Interesting how they don't see it when they don't want to see it," Chris remarked.

"Keep being studly, love," Tom said. "I'm sure that helps."

"Honestly, Tom, I'm a bit over my head," Chris admitted. "I mean, I could've just said I'm staying with you for the next two weeks, and then take it from there, but no, I had to say I'm staying with you for a while, and not with my wife and child, and that they could pick us up together if we had the same call time. I might as well have worn a sign on my forehead that said: 'Oh and by the way, ask me about my marriage troubles.'"

"Chris." Tom's voice was finally serious. "Listen. I don't want you to worry about it."

"It's you who doesn't want to come out," Chris said, sounding more mewly about it than he really felt. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."

"Chris, didn't we say we'd just casually behave like a couple and let people draw their own conclusions?"

"That was friends and family. What about the set?"

"Fact is we're living together, and I'm really happy about it, okay? I'm not going to have you move out, or bend over backwards... well wait, you bending over backwards actually doesn't sound too bad."

"Oh god, I so corrupted you," Chris moaned.

Tom chuckled. "And I thank you so very much for it," he said. "No, but what I wanted to say, I'm not ashamed of you, okay? I want you to live here, and if the consequence is that we set tongues wagging, then that's what it is."

"I think what it is at the moment is that it's pretty apparent that things between me and Elsa aren't at their best, and I guess they figure that I've moved in with you.. I don't know, for comfort? But if my mouth hadn't run away with me, it might have just looked like we're having an extended sleepover."

"I haven't had a sleepover with a friend since 10thform," Tom said. "Everything after that was for other purposes."

"Uh huh. Interesting thing for you to say," Chris teased. "Admit it, it was all a clever ruse to get me in your bed."

"Don't joke about that, Chris," Tom said quietly.

"No. I'm sorry. We both know it was my clever ruse to get in your bed," Chris deadpanned.

"It was a very clever thing to do," Tom admitted. "And I'll be forever thankful you did it."

The intimate moment was broken when Keith opened the door to Chris' trailer. "Chris – ten minutes?"

"Yep!" Chris raised his plate. "Working on it."

"Call back to the set?" Tom asked.

"Uh-huh." Chris took another bite, intent on finishing his meal before he needed to go.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it, but I'm stuck here until around six today, I'd think. Drowning in a sea of green."

"Is it fun stuff at least?" Chris asked.

"Yeah, lots of dramatic growling, reaction shots and flying around on wires. All pickups from Iceland. Tomorrow, too. I'll be off Thursday and Friday and apparently back on the main set with you lot next week."

"That's going to be fun."

"Chris, honestly, please don't worry about what they say on my behalf, okay? Use your own digression."

"You mean you don't mind me climbing on top the studio and yelling: 'I'm in love with Tom Hiddleston and he makes me stupidly happy?'"

"Go for it." Tom's voice was low and gentle. "I love you, too."


	11. Double Bind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is moving forward, but at what cost?

He'd left Andy in the car and asked him to wait. Get something to eat and wait until he was back.

Chris stared up the hotel like it was some monolith he was supposed to climb, all smooth surface with no handholds. He took a deep breath and stepped in, the lobby vast and airy, people busy, everything running like a well-oiled machine. He was greeted and asked how he was doing, if he needed anything. He collected his key card and made his way up to the suite.

He'd only been here two evenings ago, but everything was different now. The space he stepped into suddenly held little personal connection for him. It was a gorgeous suite, with a small kitchen, an airy living area, a vast bedroom, a nursery for India. He moved about the space like a lost child, looking for something that he recognized, and it all felt foreign.

He finally retrieved a bottle of beer from the fridge and sat down in the living room, kicking back and drinking while letting his eyes rest on London's brightly lit skyline. The silence felt heavenly, like he could finally hear himself think, and yet he was itchy, itchy to go back to Tom's, itchy to be in his presence, itchy to feel that connection slamming through him.

"Well," he finally said, putting the empty bottle on the table. "I've tried. I just want to go home." He sighed, and then dialed Elsa's number, knowing that he had to get this over with before he could finally drown his senses in Tom, something he'd been looking forward to the whole day.

"Hey Chris." She answered after the second ring.

"Hey," he said. "How are you?"

"Trying to keep papá from killing you," she said mildly. "And mamá has been yelling up the house for most of the day."

"So they know," he said.

" _Si._ " She sounded better than the day before, calmer. He was about to destroy that calm again.

"Listen, I'm at the hotel – I'm going to get my stuff and move in with Tom," he said.

"Oh, _amigo_ , you have the best way of hurting me within three sentences that I've ever seen," she said, sounding tired and resigned. "You bastard."

"That's me," he said. "Just trying to be honest."

"Be honest up your ass," she said, and hung up.

He sighed. He'd not really expected anything else. He rubbed his scalp for a moment, wondering what to do, then got up and moved over to the bedroom, where he looked for his suitcase and threw it on the bed. He opened it and leaned on the edges, just shaking his head for a moment, intensely disliking the fact that each decision he made on Tom's behalf always meant it was one that hurt Elsa to the bone. It was the right decision for him, though, his feeling about it so clear. He wanted to be where Tom was. If they were still together after the shoot was over, he wanted them to look for a bigger place to live in, but he definitely wanted to be where Tom was.

The phone rang. It was Elsa again.

"Tell me why we're supposed to come back to London," she said. "Tell me why I shouldn't just keep India away from you and stay here. You're not even _trying_. Just tell me what the point is in even coming back."

"You have friends here, and obligations," Chris said. "And India is still my daughter, and she misses her daddy."

"Go to hell."

"Okay, fine." He moved over to the wardrobe and took out a pile of jeans, then dropped them into the suitcase. Next were jumpers, cardigans, T-shirts. He'd have someone get his suits and dress shoes later. He just needed the things he needed around Tom.

"I'm not going to stay in London forever just to keep you and your boyfriend company," she said. "I have a career, too, you know. And I'm taking India with me when I leave."

"Elsa, now calm down," he said. "When you have engagements, I can take India no problem. That's what we always said we'd do."

"We won't always be in the same country," she said. "What do we do then?"

"We talk about it." Elsa's tone was clearly inviting a fight, but for some reason, he just didn't jump at the chance. "Listen, Tom's going to be busy that Saturday evening when you come back. I would really like to spend the day with him and India, but how about we do something together that evening? Just talk?"

"What do you mean, you and Tom and India?" It was obviously something that had not occurred to her yet.

"I will not have seen her for two weeks, and I already miss her," Chris said. "I'd like her to stay over with me and Tom for the weekend." He aimed high, hoping to get at least an uninterrupted day. "But I'd really like it if you and I could spend some time together Saturday evening." Well 'like' would've been said to much, but he knew he couldn't get around it, he knew he had to face the music sometime.

"I'm not just handing my daughter over to you."

"Elsa, now you're joking." He didn't have it. "Why on earth would you not?"

"I don't want her to see you and Tom together."

"Well, at some point she's going to, either way," Chris insisted. "This is not going away."

"Chris, I'm going to get a lawyer."

"Okay." Chris blew out a breath.

"I want to know what my rights are."

"Yes, fine." It meant he'd have to get one, as well.

"And I want us to get into counseling."

"God, Elsa." That was the first time he was losing his patience in that call. "I said it's not going to go away!"

"It's either we go into counseling or I'm not coming back from Madrid," she threatened.

"Elsa, you can't just keep my daughter away from me."

"Well, I'm going to see how long I can get away with it, claiming you and your dirty new lifestyle is ruining her."

"Spain just nodded off gay marriage, for heaven's sake!" Chris expelled. "What are you trying to accomplish?"

"I'm not letting you just ruin my life!" she yelled. "You made a promise to me, you had a child with me. You can't just walk away and pretend I don't exist."

"I'm not..."

"You and Tom, you are sitting in your corner and make up great new plans on what is going to happen. Well, where is my side? I want a lawyer, and I want us to go to counseling. I want you to have to listen to exactly how much you are ruining my life." She was breathing heavily. "Or you'll never see India again, and I don't care what it takes."

He was stunned. As much as Elsa had not counted on him wanting to spend time with his daughter away from her, he had not counted on her taking away India from him. She knew how much he doted on her, knew how much he loved her... why was she trying to do this?

"Why?" he just said, dumbfounded.

"So you're hurting as much as I do, just for once," she said. "Just one time. If I can't hurt you, I will use India."

"You'd hurt her, too."

"Well, that's a price I'm willing to pay," she said. She was completely at the end of her rope, he could hear it, just strung out, done with.

It brought him up short, the pair of socks he was just about to fling into his suitcase across the room staying awkwardly in his fist. "I've got to talk it over with Tom," was the first thing that escaped his lips, and he could clearly hear her furious wail through the phone. "Elsa, that is how it's going to be!"

"You would rather lose your daughter than him?" she asked.

"I didn't say that." He would, and he would do it in a dead second, and that realization chilled him to the bone. "I said I'm with someone, who shares my life now, and I want him to be okay with this."

"Who ever asked me if I was okay with this?" Elsa yelled.

She'd done it, she was finally getting through to him. Chris blew out a breath and shook his head. "Elsa, give me a minute. I'll call you right back." He hit the disconnect and threw the phone on the bed as if it was something disgusting that he needed to get away from, then walked up and down the room, trying to dispel the nervous energy. That was a whole pack of consequences Elsa had threatened him with, and he was not sure how to react. Again, he was caught between either hurting her, or hurting Tom, and more so, this time, he really, really didn't feel like doing what she wanted to please her. He didn't know what counseling was supposed to accomplish. Was he supposed to pretend there was a chance they could be back together? He was honest to the bone, he couldn't even _pretend_ , didn't want to. He wanted Tom. End of discussion. It made him furious that she tried to rescue something that just wasn't there any more, not on his side, anyway, not that way.

His phone rang. He picked it up.

"I'm sorry," Elsa said. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I just want you to listen, and you never listen!"

"Dammit Elsa, I was ready to throw the phone through the window," he growled.

"I'm sick of yelling at you!"

"I'm sick of being yelled at. Jesus!" He expelled a breath.

"If you really still want to be friends, you need to want to know what I want," Elsa insisted.

"Elsa, I'm afraid you're going to think I'm leaving Tom again, and I won't," Chris said. "I know that hurts you, but I just can't help it!"

"Okay." He heard her swallow. "Okay. I... I get that." There was a moment of quiet, and then she said: "It's really hard, but I do think... I think I get that it's serious, but... It's all happening so fast! I can't keep up."

"I know." He sat down heavily on the floor beside the bed. "And I am... I am getting in trouble because..." Several options of what he could say were considered and dismissed. "I'm getting myself into trouble because I'm trying to be fair to both of you. And I'm getting to the point where I think I'm seeing that I can't."

"What's going to be left for me?" she asked.

He leaned back against the bed, his forehead cradled in his hand. "I think it's going to be too little," Chris said. "Too little to make you happy."

He heard her starting to cry, and he realized that he felt sympathy, but not compassion. At some point, his heart had made a decision for Tom, and had started to let go of Elsa, and it was a relief to not be torn like this any more.

"Listen, I promise I'll talk the counseling thing over with Tom right when I get home later, okay? I'll let you know tomorrow morning. You are right, I'm not good at listening at the moment, and yes, I'm making a lot of plans for me and Tom without considering that you're part of those plans. I can honestly promise you that Tom is regularly giving me cuffs on the head for being such an idiot when it comes to you. Okay?"

She had to laugh through the tears. "Maybe I should have married him," she said.

"You'd still be in the same boat now," Chris said. "We're completely, hopelessly in love." The moment he said it, he wanted to take it back, but it was out already.

"How did that happen?" she asked. She spoke softly, as if trying not to scare up a nestling bird. "Chris, please, tell me. I just want to understand, you see?"

She had said this before, over and over again, in fact.

"Elsa... if it was just me... I think I would tell you, but it's also him," he said.

"Then tell me just you." She took a breath. "I want to listen."

He didn't feel comfortable with it. It was like he was breaching some sacred trust with Tom, and that was the last, the very last thing he wanted to do. But he could see, or at least thought he could, that she was really desperate to understand what had happened, and how. How her world could have been turned so upside-down over something that she had no control over.

"I... he kept falling asleep on me that evening," Chris said haltingly. "And instead of looking for the sofa or the guest room, I just... fell asleep with him. He didn't know. I just wanted to be where he was." His heart was quivering with anticipation of a quip from Elsa. "When I woke up, he was laughing his ass off because I had wrapped myself around him in my sleep, and then one thing kind of lead to another and I ended up kissing him. And then things kind of took off from there."

"It sounds like you were waiting for this for a long time," Elsa said.

"Yeah." He knew he had. "I know that now," he said quietly. "I didn't know it going into that weekend."

"Thanks for telling me," Elsa said.

"Yeah, um..." He sniffed and wiped at his eyes in a manly fashion. "Thanks for listening. I'm sorry I'm such a crappy husband. You really deserve better."

"That I do," she said, deadpan. "There's no question about it."

They both laughed, and it felt really good.

"Do you want me to listen?" Chris asked.

"Ungh," she said. "Where do I start? My husband left me for a man. I don't know what to do!"

"Live your life," he said. "Find what makes you happy, Elsa."

"You made me happy."

"Not nearly enough." He sighed. "And I'm not going to be there to do it any more."

"Does it always have to end that way?"

"It is what it is, Elsa. I'd rather not lie."

"You mean you cannot lie."

"That on top of it all." He ran a hand through his hair. "Listen, I need to hang up. I want to go home, I had a really long day."

"Home," she said wistfully.

"Yeah." He felt it in his heart. "I want to go home. I want to be where he is."

He knew that the silence meant he had hurt her again and still, he was just so sick of censoring himself and tiptoeing and trying to do right by everyone and never, ever succeeding.

Elsa's voice was very quiet when she spoke next.

"India's already asleep... do you still want me to send pictures?"

"Yes, please. I miss her."

"She misses you, too." And after some hesitation, "We both do."

"I know. I promise I'll let you know tomorrow about the counseling. Do you want to set it up?"

"I can make an inquiry," Elsa said. "And then get back to you with a date?"

"Okay." He didn't feel as defensive about it any more. "Sure."

"I guess that's... goodbye for now?"

"Goodbye for today," Chris said. "Not forever. Okay?"

"Okay." She sighed. "Talk to you soon."

And she hung up.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Honey... I'm home?"

"Hey, I'm... are you okay?" Tom stuck his head through the kitchen doorway just to see Chris come in, fairly drenched, a massive hardcase in his wake. Tom stopped short, perplexed. "Wow."

"Um, I... you said it was okay if I moved in?"

Tom's eyes went from the case to Chris' face, back to the case, then back to Chris.

"It's been raining outside, sorry I'm so wet."

"Honey, it's ten steps from the curb to the door." Tom moved to unclench Chris' ice cold hand from the handle. "Let me take this, go have a shower or at least change!"

"I didn't know if I should ring the bell or use the key."

He'd used the key. Tom had heard it rattling in the door, causing his heart to skip a double beat, and then speed up again with happiness.

"I'm glad you're home."

"I had to pack."

"I can see that."

"No, I mean, pack everything. It's all in there except for the suits. I just had to do it alone, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You're back, and you're telling me about it, that's all good. Okay?"

"Sorry I'm late for dinner."

"You're not late, I was waiting for you to come home to start." Tom could see that they would not get anywhere like this. He helped Chris out of his coat and hung it up, then took off his shoes, then lead him to the bathroom. Chris was shivering; it was cold outside and sleet had started to come down. If he wasn't under a shower in under a minute, he would get sick, and that was more than bad for production. But when he started to undo Chris' buttons, Chris held his hands.

"No, wait," he said. "Elsa threatened to not let me see India again unless I agreed to go to counseling with her."

Tom's jaw fell. If he felt betrayed by her doing that, he had no idea how Chris would feel. "What?"

"She said she'd rather stay in Madrid if I didn't agree."

"What would... did you agree?"

"I eventually did, but I told her it would change nothing about you and me, okay? She said she just wanted me to listen to her already. Me and my blab mouth, I called her to tell her I was moving in with you."

Tom leaned in to softly kiss his cheek. "Go have that shower," he said. "I will get your things, okay?" He was so immeasurably proud of Chris.

"Wait. One more thing. I've been waiting for this the whole day." Chris moved in, cupped his face in his hands and kissed him, gentle at first, then more insistent. Following his intuition, Tom turned them around and pressed Chris against the wall, taking control, his hands firmly planted against the tile on both sides of Chris' head, his whole body moving against him, anchoring him tightly. Chris sighed deeply, letting go, his hands sliding over Tom's back. They took their time, getting re-acquainted with each other's taste and touch, until Tom could feel Chris relax somewhat, his hands sliding down to Tom's ass, pulling him close.

"Better?" Tom asked.

"Uh-huh." Chris nuzzled his ear, placing tiny kisses along his neck, inhaling him deeply. "Getting there." His kisses became wetter, tiny licks that made Tom's toes curl. Tom felt him smile against his skin. "Never loved you more," Chris said. "Never loved you better." He cupped Tom's face again. "Dinner when I'm done?"

"Yeah."

"Leave the suitcase, I want to do this myself."

"I'll make room in the wardrobe." Tom's heart skipped a happy beat. "Welcome home, Chris."


	12. Rocking You Gently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom can't sleep, and Chris thinks of an antidote – with a twist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the real reason why Tom was in such a splendid, feisty mood during the "Done in 60 Seconds" interviews. 100% true, cross my heart.

For three nights, Tom didn't sleep. 

Oh, he would look forward to each night. 

Chris came home. 

Home. 

To him. 

They had dinner together or, when Chris was very late on Tuesday, just spent time in the living room, where Chris would do nothing but lie tightly entwined with him, too tired to do anything but just look at him, and Tom's whole day reduced itself to these few moments when he could see himself mirrored in Chris' eyes. They would, at some point, repair to bed, pressed against each other, breathing each other's breath until Chris fell asleep, and Tom was unable to. He couldn't do anything but stare at this miracle. Sometimes he did doze off, but inbetween sleep cycles, Chris would start reaching out for him, as if he could not believe Tom was really there, and they touched and kissed, wandering between conscious and unconscious, assuring each other of their continued presence with skin, breath, lips, without ever really fully waking up.

There wasn't enough Chris for him during the day, so Tom drank his fill during the night. Traced each rise and dip, studied the fan of Chris' lashes on his cheek as he dreamed, learned the pattern of his breathing and the fullness of his lips, the sounds he made if he was cold, or too warm, how it felt to have his arms wrapped around him all night, and how those hands then started touching him when Chris hardly came to between sleep cycles, how they roamed his whole body, how he kissed him, drew him closer, moved against him, and then slowed again, stilled, until he was back asleep.

Tom lived and breathed for those moments, and he did not sleep, too excited to miss them.

Mornings were the worst. Tom would stare at the clock, trying to will time to stop and not be so cruel, but 5am would come, and Chris had to get up, and leave. He was acutely aware that he was probably grossly overdoing it, but Chris was at least as bad as he was. They were ridiculously, stupidly in love, desperate to make up for lost time, desperate to be together. He knew this sense of urgency would end at some point. He didn't want to miss a moment of it. So he stayed awake. And then Chris reached out for him in his sleep, and it was all worth it.

  
  


* * *

  
  


His first day off the set was Thursday, and Tom spent it having his appointment with Luke, attending another meeting in preparation for his involvement as a judge in the _Done In 60 Seconds_ competition, and a short, but very pleasant, shopping sojourn into a couple of clothes shops to prepare for several press dates the following morning.

By 4:30pm, Tom finally found himself at home on the recliner in front of his bay windows, sipping his espresso. Dusk was descending on London, a soothing sight. It would be several hours until Chris came home. Tom was looking forward to filling the remaining time just thinking, listening to music and maybe writing a little, commemorating some of his thoughts and feelings of the last week to paper, so he could revisit them again later. He got his laptop ready and started a CD, and then decided that it would be okay to rest his eyes, for just a minute.

The phone woke him a quarter to seven. Tom had nodded off despite his best intentions and picked up without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Did I wake you?" he heard Chris voice. "I'm sorry."

"No, no, I didn't intend to fall asleep anyway," Tom said. "What's up, love? When are you going to be home?" He yawned.

"Now I'm even sorrier I've called," Chris said. "I know you haven't been sleeping."

"Yeah well, can't make me if what's next to me is so magical," Tom said lovingly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, just bad news about tomorrow's schedule."

"What is it?"

"I have a late call tomorrow – at noon. We're going to be on set until after midnight. I'm actually on my way to get out of my armor and make-up right now. I'll be ready to leave in an hour, tops. I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner? Would you pick me up?"

"With my car?"

"Or with a cab, I don't care. I'm just really miffed I won't see you at all tomorrow – I know you have press appointments."

"Yeah, starting at 8," Tom said regretfully. "Interviews and radio interviews for the _Done in 60 Seconds_ thing. Can't get out of those. I'll have to be up by 6, latest."

"And then I leave late and come in late and... argh. If you pick me up, we'll have at least 30 min more of each other tonight."

"Done. I'll get dressed and come byASAP. Do I need to make a reservation?"

"No, no, I'll take care of it. I have somewhere in mind."

Tom smiled. "Looking forward to it! I'll see you in a minute! Hang in there."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Forty-five minutes later, he strode onto the lot. People were preparing the sets for the next day's shooting, packing up and leaving around him, waving and saying hello as he passed them.

Right in the door to the costume department, he ran into Rene Russo.

"Tom! How wonderful to see you! Half the fun here without my wayward second son." She embraced him, and they exchanged kisses on the cheek.

"Lovely to see you, too, Rene! You look great," Tom complimented her. "Good day's work?"

"Yes, yes. Tony was especially irreverent today, but you know him." She laughed. "Can't take anything seriously. I guess when you've been in the biz for that long..." She laughed some more.

"Ah, yes." Tom grinned. "Looking forward to that fatherly spanking next week."

"So... you're here to..."

"Here to pick up Chris," Tom said.

"Right! I heard he's moved in with you," Rene said. "Everything okay?"

"You'd have to ask him that," Tom said, raising his hands. "Really. Not my place to say anything. He's certainly a great house mate. I'm not complaining."

"With the schedule we're having, I'm hardly home." Chris suddenly appeared behind Rene. "Easy to be light on the maintenance."

Tom raised his eyes to Chris' and his heart started to race, as it always did. In his rush to get dressed, call a cab and get to the set as soon as possible, he had absolutely forgotten to worry or even just think about how they were going to behave once they saw each other. There had been no prior talk about this, because they had actually not counted on having to work something out until next week, so that seemed very far into the future.

Tom was fairly sure his eyes gave everything away anyway. He ducked his head and smiled. "You ready to leave?" he asked. He hoped he'd never get used to this feeling of elation.

"You're heading out to dinner?" Rene asked.

"Uh-huh," Chris said. And then, he, too, hesitated, standing half behind her, not sure how to proceed.

Tom blinked. He looked at Rene, who had not yet caught on that anything untoward was happening. What did "Casually behave like a couple" mean in this context? Hugging? Calling each other pet names? A kiss hello?

Inside Tom, his pride and elation about belonging to Chris had a little tug of war with his cautious, consequences-fearing side. He looked at Chris and saw nothing but gentle acceptance in his eyes; whatever Tom would choose to do, however obvious or non-obvious he decided to be, would be fine with Chris.

Tom spared Rene a final glance and then moved into a hug with Chris, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Hey," he said. "Good to see you."

"Glad you could make it so fast," Chris said, hugging him tightly. "Cab or car?"

"I called a cab. I thought in case we wanted to have a drink..."

"Good choice." Chris let him go and transferred his attention to Rene. "You're also heading out to the car park?"

"Actually, yes. My driver should be there by now." She gave them both a warm smile.

"Okay then." Chris moved forward to open the door for Rene, and they stepped outside. It was cold and dark, and Tom remembered all the videos he had rewatched, the pictures of him and Chris that were freely available of them online. He walked close to Chris and wrapped his arm around his middle. The smile he received in return was definitely worth it, and so was the returning arm. It was, he reasoned, probably best if they simply didn't change anything about their behavior, even though he knew his smile should be strong enough to light all the way to the car park.

They chatted amiably with Rene as they walked, and when they reached her car, Tom opened the door for her.

"So nice to see you again, Rene, can't wait for next week," he said.

She hesitated, and then simply pulled him into a surprisingly strong hug. He returned it gladly.

"Let's have lunch together next week," Rene said. "I don't see enough of my boys together."

"Definitely."

She let go of him, and gave Chris the same heart-felt hug before she smiled at both of them and, with a little wave, got into the car. They waved her off, then ambled over to the cab, just glad to be in each other's company. The cab driver started the car when he saw them coming, then jumped out and opened the door for them. They climbed in, Chris telling him where he needed them to go, and as soon as they were in the cab, Tom hit the partition button and closed the curtains. He had the decency to wait until the car was actually out the gate, then turned to a grinning Chris and said: "You know the real reason I called a cab and not took the car? We get to do this." He actually took his time to brush a strand of hair out of Chris' face and cradle his jaw in his hand. "I love you."

"Love you, too." And then it was Chris who moved forward and kissed him, and they both sighed in relief at the first contact in over 14 hours.

Tom made a needy noise in the back of his throat, and Chris pulled him closer, kissed him deeper, still in complete reverence and awe. As strange as it had first seemed to be at the receiving end of a romantic man's affections, the more Tom had begun to appreciate it in the last week, how attentive Chris was, what impeccable timing he had when it came to bodily affection, and the way he made him feel like he was the center of his world. It was, simply put, more than nice to be loved like this. He didn't mind at all the way Chris looked at him, or showed him, in so many different ways, how much he adored him. The way his fingers traced along his jaw up to his ear, how his hand slipped through his short-cropped hair, how he pulled him closer, how the intensity of his kisses slowly reached a point at which Tom was simply putty in his hands.

"That was a very, very good idea," Chris purred

"How long are we going to be in the cab?" Tom asked, a little breathless.

"Hmm... about half an hour?" Chris was opening Tom's jacket.

"Hm, saving those thirty minutes was an excellent idea on your part," Tom said, also opening Chris' jacket, and simply sliding it off his shoulders. "So much better spending them like this, than waiting for you."

"Yeah." Chris looked at him when his hand slid down his torso, and he was licking his lip when he let it slide lower, brushing over Tom's clearly visible erection.

Tom strained into the touch, letting Chris know it was welcome, and needed. Chris palmed him through the fabric of his trousers, and Tom bit his lip, trying to keep from crying out.

"I want to see you come," Chris whispered, his voice strained. "Please."

Tom gulped, moving wantonly into his touch. "O...okay... yes... Oh god... yes... Chris... don't stop."

"Trust me, I have absolutely no intention to stop... absolutely _none_." Chris moved swiftly to open his belt, button and zipper, and then pulled the elastic band of his boxer briefs down to free his erection.

"Tissues... something..." Tom mewled. "I don't have a shirt to change."

Chris laughed under his breath, but found a pack in his jacket pocket, and left it to Tom to pull out what he needed while he pushed up his shirt and dove in, kissing and licking the sensitive skin around his cock. Tom strained into the touch, his whole body on fire.

"You... oh god... are... the best... boyfriend... ever... Oh Chris... dammit... touch me already... Chris... Chris... Oh... _F_ _uck_." His hips leapt off the cushions when Chris finally wrapped his long-fingered hand around his straining cock.

"You were saying?" Chris' voice was dripping with arousal as he came up for air, so impossibly close, his whole body pressed against Tom's as he started a very slow, incredibly intense pump of his cock. "Oh how I missed that... Missed seeing that expression... Tom... I can't wait to see you come..." He kissed him, deeply, swallowing Tom's cry when he let his thumb swivel over the head of his cock, rubbing the collected pre-come back into his slit.

"Oh god... fuck... Chris."

"Yeah... exactly that... I want to see that... _that.._." Chris licked a broad swath up his neck, causing Tom to nearly leap off the seat. "That's it, love... you're mine."

"God, yes." Tom felt Chris' erection stabbing his hip, so intense, as he rocked it against him, and then Chris inserted his leg between Tom's, rubbing against the inside of his thighs. "Chris... I'm not going to last long."

"I want you to come," Chris growled, "only when I tell you to, not before, not after, do you understand?"

"Y... yes." He had had no idea he could feel that level of arousal. His eyes locked with Chris', with that impossible, impeccable blue, with the gentleness and the intensity and that bone-deep expression of love, tenderness, passion, that enveloped him whole. His world condensed to those two intense focal points of of love, and the feeling of Chris' hand on his cock, sliding up and down, coaxing the most intense sounds out of his throat, in lieu of the moans that strained to come out, but that he wouldn't allow due to where they were.

"Yeeeeeessss," Chris moaned. "That's it. Oh, Tom... You have no idea what you're giving me... Tom... _Tom..._ " His hand sped up, and he moved to straddle Tom's legs, looming over him, his breath hot against Tom's mouth as he pumped his cock.

Tom felt the familiar sensation of his impending orgasm collect in his belly. Chris' closeness, the smell of his sweat mingling with his perfume, his powerful body coiled over him, trapping his cock between them, it was all too much. It was sweet and rich and full and more than he had ever possibly known. Tom licked his lips, a desperate sound coming out of his mouth. "Please.." he cried, "Please let me come."

"Wait, my love." Chris softly kissed against the juncture of his jaw and neck. "Wait a little longer."

Tom felt Chris' tongue against him, softly sucking and kissing that spot, that sweet, sweet spot. He pressed his forehead against Chris' shoulder, his hands clawing at Chris' back. "Please," he whimpered. "Please. Oh god, please let me come, Chris. Please."

"Are you that ready?" Chris asked, his voice like velvet.

"More than." Tom moaned.

"Are you ready to come for me, Tom?" There they were back, those intense blue eyes, reading every nuance of his expression off his face, sucking him in.

"Y... yes. Oh god, yes." Tom desperately strained his hips against the unforgiving clamp of Chris' thighs, holding him down.

"Let me watch you," Chris' voice strained. "Let me see you, Tom. Come." His hot lips pressed against the corner of Tom's mouth. "Come for me, my love."

What really wanted to come out of Tom's throat was the most intense, soul-tearing moan of his life. But Chris' hand clamped over his mouth, his other hand giving his cock that last intense pull-and-tug, and Tom came, the white-hot intensity of it making his body leap off the seat, but here he was, intensely restrained by Chris' hands, thighs, his whole body. Tom came and came and came, losing all sense of time and place, his world condensed to being so tightly anchored, and the feeling of his seed pumping out of him into Chris' hand, catching it like a benediction.

"Oh... oh... oh fuck... Chris..." His body went completely slack in the aftermath and he was done, spent, ridiculously fucked out from just one ten-minute hand-job in a still moving car. He panted helplessly, waiting for his racing heart to still.

"Open your mouth," Chris whispered.

Tom just did, and then tasted his own seed, trickling onto his tongue. His eyes flew open, and the sight nearly undid him all over again. Chris was holding his seed-filled hand over his lips, feeding it to him, lapping at it from the other end, as if they were both tasting and sharing some life-giving concoction.

There were simply no words to how Tom felt, sharing this with Chris, and he was so spent and tired and filled with gratitude and love and too shagged out to even raise a hand and caress his lover.

"It's okay," Chris soothed, picking up on it. "It's okay. I've got you." He kissed him gently, letting him down easy, and then simply took care of everything, cleaned Tom up, shared a smile with him when Tom hissed at his touch, tucked him back in, gave his belly a last kiss before pulling his shirt over it, and then simply gathered him in his arms, holding him tenderly until Tom had regained some of his senses.

Tom was cuddled against Chris' shoulder and now turned his head to place a soft kiss under his jaw. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice so soft.

Chris turned his smile on him. "Oh, I think I do," he teased lightly. "Thank you."

"No, thank you." Tom let his fingertips slide over Chris' powerful thigh, thinking, no, _knowing_ with absolute certainty, that he was the luckiest man in the world.

  
  


* * *

  
  


When they arrived, Chris tipped the driver generously and kept his arm around Tom as he lead him towards an elegant looking building built in the 1920s.

"Where are we going?" Tom asked, unfamiliar with the name.

"You''ll see." Chris was obviously having the time of his life indulging him, so Tom laughed and let him.

"Okay."

They ascended the stairs to the entrance and stopped at the concierge's desk. Chris gave his name, and said: "We're here on Luke Windsor's invitation?"

"Certainly. This way, please."

"Luke?" Tom asked. "He knows you're taking me out tonight?"

"I needed the right place for it," Chris said. "I thought he could help."

"Oh my god." Tom hid his face against Chris' shoulder and laughed. "That's going to be an interesting day tomorrow."

"He's nothing if not discreet," Chris said. He turned his head and kissed Tom's temple. "I love you."

Tom had an inkling what kind of establishment Chris had spirited him off to, if Chris was so open with his affection.

London was littered with private clubs, many of them decades old; elegant establishments where privileged men were amongst themselves and congratulated each other on being important and successful. His father, of course, belonged to not just one, but three, but Tom had never seen the point of it, really, wanting to mix with the crowds rather than set himself apart.

This club, though, seemed restricted not only to the relatively wealthy, but also to a certain persuasion. As was custom in the clubs, there were only men seated in the dining area, but Tom quickly picked up on hands held in plain view, and heads bowing in intimate conversation. There was nothing overtly sexual going on, but the kind of open affection displayed was nothing he would expect in public view.

The concierge brought them to their table and Chris pulled out a chair for Tom. Tom made a mental note that the next round of indulging was definitely going to be done by him, but he was happy to let Chris have his way tonight.

They ordered wine, and the waiter who brought it also lit a candle at their table, and brought their menus. As they pored over them, Tom spared a moment to look at Chris, reached over and touched his hand.

"Thank you."

Chris' eyes twinkled at him over the edge of the page. "You're welcome."

No further conversation was had until they had ordered. Tom immensely enjoyed the freedom to not have to think and wonder whether he was allowed to be openly affectionate; his legs meshed with Chris' under the table, and he held his hand as they were making conversation. It felt like he could let his heart unfold in this environment, and he could breathe freely.

"I couldn't be sure you would like it," Chris said. "This is actually a club that Steve belongs to. I didn't want us to run into familiar faces in some establishment that the entertainment industry uses. This is mostly lawyers, managers and bankers, so... we're probably the only actors here."

"Very thoughtful," Tom said.

"If you like it, we could come more often," Chris mentioned casually.

"We could try out more than one...?" Tom proposed.

"That sounds great, yeah." Chris leaned back in his chair. "I just wanted to take you out in style and not worry for once."

"So you do worry?"

"Yeah, I do." Chris sighed. "More about what my certainly soon very tarnished reputation would do to you than actually about myself."

"Then I'm glad your worry about me makes you be safe, as well," Tom said. "This is actually really nice. I would've never thought of coming here."

"I thought so," Chris said. "And I wasn't sure you'd like it, because it's... well... obviously pretty gay."

"Their secrets protect our secrets, don't they?" Tom said thoughtfully. None of the men here would breathe a word about having seen them, and expected them to keep mum in return.

"I think so, yes."

Their dinner was served soon after, and when they were finished eating, their waiter showed them the way to the upstairs bar. Situated in a cozy library setting, cushioned leather chairs and sofas in tastefully sequestered nooks were waiting to be occupied, and they had a nice tumbler of Irish Whiskey while their meals settled.

"Do you know how many times my father has tried to get me to use one of these?" Tom asked. He was pressed snugly against Chris's side, completely satisfied by just occupying the same space and breathing the same air as him.

"A gay club?" Chris asked, laughing softly.

"Yeah, right." Tom grinned at him. "That's it."

"Are you happy, Tom?" Chris asked, his hand on Tom's shoulder caressing him gently.

"Hm, what's not giving me away?" Tom asked. "The stupid grin on my face, the purring, my hand on your thigh, me thinking so intensely about making love to you that I think you should be able to hear it...?"

"You are?" Chris murmured.

"You bet I am." Tom turned his head and kissed him softly. "Hm, how public is too public in here?" he wondered, deciding already that kissing Chris would be fine.

"I think they would draw the line at your slipping your hand down my trousers," Chris chuckled. "I wonder if they rent rooms?"

"We have a perfectly fine room and bed at home," Tom murmured. "But I'm not ready to leave yet."

"Me neither. I have one more thing on my agenda that I've been dying to do with you but haven't had a chance yet."

"Oh?"

"Wait and see."

  
  


* * *

  
  


They had to change establishments, but Chris took the opportunity for a short walk in the cool air to do it. They walked hand in hand, aware that this corner of London was firmly in the hand of the gay and lesbian community, but kept out of the bright street lights. Tom felt at peace, serene almost, just being here with Chris, sharing time and space with him.

Chris ushered him to a club a couple of streets over, where again, he had to give Luke's name to be admitted. They ordered drinks at the bar, getting used to the decidedly more modern atmosphere, with men gyrating on the dance floor, showing off their wares.

"I can't believe Luke is ever going here," Tom shouted over the din of the music. "He seems too docile to enjoy this!"

"You've probably never seen his wild side," Chris shouted back, and they both laughed. "He has a secret life as a pole stripper a couple of clubs over."

"That would explain _so much_." They clinked glasses and had a drink on their cleverness, then Chris pulled Tom on the dance floor, where they proceeded to go completely crazy for the next hour. 

Chris almost died laughing watching Tom showing off some of his traditional Scottish moves, but when the base of the house music slammed through their bodies, they were very happy just going off to the music and watching each other dance, trying not to drool too openly at each other, but of course failing miserably. Tom finally pulled Chris in by the lapels and playfully opened the top three buttons of his shirt, wanting to see the sweat collect on his collar bone, and Chris kissed him in return, desperately almost, and from then on, they danced together, bodies always in contact somewhere.

Finally, the music calmed down to a ballad, and Chris pulled Tom into his arms and slow danced with him, both their hearts at first still beating wildly over the earlier exertions, and then slowing to the same rhythm, completely in sync.

"I want to take you home," Chris murmured into Tom's ear. "Before the music picks up again."

"Yeah." Tom sighed happily. "That sounds perfect."

They finished the dance, swaying gently to the music, completely immersed in each other, and when the next song started, Chris kissed Tom hard on the mouth and then pulled him off the dance floor towards the front desk. They got into their jackets while waiting for the cab, and piled into it quickly when it arrived, seeking shelter from the cold and the falling rain.

It was a shorter ride home, since they were closer to Tom's house now, and they spent it lazily kissing each other. Tom was not ready to let go of how perfect the evening had been, how perfect they fit together, how incredibly, immeasurably happy Chris made him. When they arrived home, Chris unlocked all the doors for them, indicating that he felt completely at home, and then toppled him on the sofa, his dense, heavy body pressing Tom's lithe figure into the cushions as he licked the sweat off his neck.

"We should shower?" Tom suggested.

"Later," Chris said. "When I've had my fill of you."

It made Tom smile. "And when would that possibly be?" he asked.

"Probably never," Chris admitted. "But I hardly ever get to enjoy you like this."

"What, sweaty and stinky?" Tom laughed.

"Hm, sweat. I love sweat. I love it on you," Chris confessed. He buried his nose behind Tom's ear, inhaling him. "It's more Tom. More Tom is fine with me. I love the way you smell." He burrowed into Tom's arm pit. "Hmmmm."

Tom laughed. "That tickles," he chided gently. "You're not smelling half bad yourself, to be honest."

"Hm, debauchery. I like it. Let's have more of it."

"Another?" Tom teased.

"Just this one," Chris insisted. He gave his best effort to open the buttons on Tom's shirt with his teeth, which tickled and was just wonderful. Tom reached behind his head and freed his lover's hair, and when Chris was finished unbuttoning his shirt and started sucking on his sternum, Tom buried his hands in it and then writhed with pleasure when Chris dragged it along his skin as he held him down by his wrists.

"How would you like me?" Tom whispered.

"Just like this, with my cock sliding between your thighs, and you writhing under my touch," Chris requested.

"Get the lube, I'll do you one better," Tom promised.

When Chris returned, stark naked, with his erection standing proudly before him, Tom was on the recliner, head at the foot of it, ready and waiting.

"Hmmmm...." Chris made as he slid on top of him. "This never gets old."

"No," Tom said, kissing him gently. "It really doesn't." He writhed under Chris' sensitive touch, as he lubed him carefully, letting his cock slide through his hand, lathering the space between his thighs, massaging his perineum. "Chris..." he finally choked, "if you keep this up I'm going to come just from this."

"Not this time," Chris smiled. He started straddling his legs.

"Hand me the two cushions at the head end," Tom requested. When Chris did, he propped them behind his back, under Chris' careful surveillance.

They shimmied down until Chris' feet were solidly against the head end, giving him leverage to move. Then Tom performed his final trick, draping himself over the cushions, his back arched, arms behind his head, effectively offering his whole upper body up for Chris to enjoy.

Chris just stared. He licked his lips. He stared.

"Sweetheart," Tom reminded him gently, "are you all right?"

"I do not deserve you," Chris croaked.

"But I do deserve you, so come and give me some satisfaction," Tom requested.

Chris finally gave him his full attention, leaning over him, stroking his hair, as his erection brushed tantalizingly over Tom's thighs. "Tom, do you trust me?" he asked.

"Implicitly."

"Would you still like to be tied up? Hm?"

"It would mean I wouldn't get to touch you, doesn't it?" Tom said, running his fingertips over Chris' powerful back muscles.

"Yes, for a very short time," Chris said. "I'll use a fast opening knot, I promise, and if you tell me to untie you, I will. Immediately."

"Yes." There was no hesitation. "Please."

"Please what?" Chris asked, his breath hot against Tom's skin.

"Please tie me up, Chris."

When Chris returned this time, he brought two silk ties from his own collection, tied one end around the recliner's legs, and the other around Tom's wrists, effectively pulling Tom tautly over the cushions. His eyes were dark with arousal when he surveyed his work, and then he straddled Tom's thighs and anchored him with his own weight. He didn't breathe a word, but the sheer lust in his expression had Tom so hard he was afraid he would simply burst at the first touch. Then Chris began his work, his hands behind Tom's back, supporting him, worshiping him with tongue, lips, teeth, his cock sliding slowly over Tom's thighs until he finally moved into him with a groan that Tom had never heard from him before.

"Chris," he soothed. "Love." He wanted to touch him, desperately so, but at the same time, being bent to Chris' lust like this, anchored between the silk ties and Chris' driving cock, his weight on his legs, being pulled tautly into Chris' lips and tongue was a torture so exquisite that Tom was fairly sure his orgasm would blow his neighbor's ears out, and for once, he absolutely did not care. He threw his head back and gave himself over to the sensation of this man ravaging him, taking him, making love to him, fucking him, _so hard._.. He'd never witnessed Chris allowing himself to lose control like this, just owning him, lovingly, no doubt, but also possessively, grabbing him so tightly that it hurt, his cock driving into him over and over and over again until, with a strangled, desperate cry, he spilled his seed, pumping it between Tom's legs. And he still had enough strength to give Tom's cock the required two strokes to make him follow, blowing Tom's lights out completely for the second time that night.

Tom was still floating between the worlds when Chris quickly undid the ties around his wrists and hid his face against Tom's neck as they both struggled to regain their breath, their sweaty bodies open to the cooling air.

There were no words. 

Tom didn't think he'd ever need words again.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was ungodly early when Tom had to get up the next morning. He'd only had five, maybe six hours of sleep, but at least he had slept. Chris had requested the alarm early enough for them to have time to kiss and say good morning, but when Tom finally extracted himself from his embrace, he let Chris roll over and go back to sleep.

He used the bathroom and tied on a dressing gown, and then padded over to the kitchen, starting the requisite cup of coffee when he found the envelope inscribed "Tom" with the single red rose propped up against the coffee maker. Smiling, he sniffed the flower and then opened the envelope while the water heated up.

 _Tom,_ the card read, 

_I am heartbroken that I can't spend the evening with you today_ _as_ _I had originally planned. I hope last night made up for it a bit in advance._

_I don't have words for what the past week has meant to me, what you mean to me. Failing to learn my lines, coming to you for help, falling asleep on your bed last Friday has been the best thing I have ever done in my life, and I regret absolutely nothing._

_Every day with you is a celebration._

_Happy one week anniversary, my love._

_Chris_


	13. No Words / Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris shares his fantasies with Tom. Things happen as a result.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains mature content regarding sexual orientation that might be upsetting or triggering. Definitely, absolutely not safe for work, school or any other public place. Really not.

Despite his best intentions, Tom wasn't able to stay awake until Chris returned from filming on Friday night. Several nights of little or no sleep finally caught up with him, and he was in bed by half ten, figuring that he would be rested enough to be affectionate with Chris when he came home.

The figures on his digital alarm clock read two twenty-two when he woke from the bed dipping behind him.

"You're overdressed," Chris whispered in his ear as he cuddled into him.

"Do something about it, then."

Tom gasped with arousal when Chris swiftly divested him of his pajama bottoms and moved to lie between his legs, mapping his stomach with kisses and little bites as he pushed up his shirt and rubbed his naked skin against Tom's, sliding up his body inch by inch. By the time he was sucking at the indent of his collar bone, Tom was rock hard and straining against Chris' weight.

"Been waiting for this all night," Chris sighed. He leaned forward and pulled Tom’s shirt over his head, using the moment to kiss him deeply, pressing his cock against Tom’s.

"Were you having godly boners thinking of me?" Tom asked, his voice hoarse. "Your cock straining against the armor, making it impossible for you to do something about it?"

Chris moaned.

"Do you want me to have you in that armor?" Tom asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I want to nail you against the wall in that armor," Chris professed, rubbing wantonly against Tom. "I want to wrap you in that cloak while you suck me off on your knees."

"Oooooohhh." Tom exhaled, delighted that Chris would actually fantasize about him while waiting for the next take.

"In that fucking helmet of yours I could just hold you in place by the horns," Chris moaned. "Jesus."

"Hmmm... have you been getting yourself off on that?" Tom wanted to know, absolutely fascinated.

Chris nodded against his skin. "Today," he admitted. "In my trailer."

"Oh Chris, the things you give to me." Tom rolled them on their sides, kissing Chris, one hand sliding down to his cock. "Hm, you're so ready for my touch."

"I'm always ready for your touch," Chris sighed. "I think of you during the day and boom, instant hard-on. I want you all day. All the time."

"Chris, hand me the lube?" Tom asked, then received the tube and flicked it open, coating his hand liberally with the slippery substance. He wrapped it around Chris' cock, lubing it, slipping down to his balls, weighing them in his hand. When Chris tried to touch him in return, he batted him away. "Uh-uh," he chided. "My turn."

"Hm, remember that costume you had in the first Thor movie," Chris narrated as Tom began to slide his hand up and down Chris' cock.

"Hm?"

"The leather trousers with that lovely cock pouch."

"Chris Chris Chris, you weren't really wanking off to my cock on Thor?" Tom teased. He lubed his hand again and transferred the lube to his own cock, hissing at his own touch.

"I was," Chris professed. "It felt so good."

Tom smiled. "Tell me." He urgently pressed his cock against Chris' and grasped them both in his hand. "Fuck, you feel good."

"I fantasized about touching you until you were hard in those trousers," Chris gasped. "I wanted to see the outline of that boner against the leather, the whole fucking length of it for me to see."

"Oooooh..." Chris' narrative was making it very hard to concentrate.

"I wanted to press you against a wall, kiss the living daylights out of you and touch you through that leather, just feel you... I imaged you were hard and full and hot in my hand and you'd gasp and struggle a little."

"What happened next?" Tom increased the tempo of his stroking, moving his hips into his own touch.

"I ripped the leather open and you were already leaking, ready for me," Chris gasped. "I touched you. You stopped struggling and moaned."

"Oooh Chris... fuck..."

"You begged me to make you come." Chris' hips began a seductive grind. "You were babbling... breathing hard... I turned you around and ground up against you while I was stroking you... your ass was pushing back at me, begging to be fucked."

"And did you?" Tom could feel his balls contract.

"Yessss... I was balls deep inside of you when you came, painting the wall white with your come."

"Damn... fuck... oh god, dammit!" He'd come much earlier than he had anticipated, shaking helplessly in his orgasm. Chris wasn't done yet and quickly moved his cock between his legs, sliding along the sensitive underside of his ball sack. His left hand clawed into Tom's ass to keep him close and his hips snapped forward, fucking into him vigorously.

Tom was torn between needing to feel his letdown and incredibly turned on by Chris' sweaty, muscly body simply taking him. He moaned, his still lubed hand sliding into Chris' crack while his tongue wantonly licked the sweat off Chris' neck.

Chris let out a desperate whine. His left leg wrapped around Tom to give him better leverage, his hard cock pushing in as deeply as he possibly could before pulling out again, then fucking back in. Tom clenched his legs, then crossed them to give Chris a tighter space to work with, and a few thrusts later, Chris came with a wail, each pulse of semen accompanied by a new cry.

Tom held him, stroking his hair, milking the last drops of Chris' come by gently moving against him until he slipped out.

Chris was still shivering, drawing hissing breaths between his teeth, his forehead pressed against Tom's shoulder.

"So you want to be inside of me, huh?" Tom asked gently, kissing Chris' temple.

Chris nodded, pressing himself closer to Tom. "All the time," he whispered.

"Okay, sweetheart. It's okay. I love you. So much."

"I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry about," Tom said.

"Just can't get enough of you. Can't get close enough."

"Stop hiding and look at me," Tom prodded gently. "Hey, love of my life. I kinda like your face. Let me look at your gorgeous blue eyes, huh?"

Chris' expression was completely vulnerable, stripped of all pretense or cockiness; exhaustion and worry painted on his features.

"I promise you," Tom said, very earnestly. "That it's going to be okay, all right?"

"I'm sorry I said anything."

"I'm not."

"I know you don't want to..." Chris started, but Tom put his forefinger on his lips.

"Shhh."

"No, really, I... I don't want you to think you need to... because of me. Okay? That's important to me."

"I get it. But you get to have needs, you know? You don't have to nip them in the bud just because you think – or know – that I might not jump at the chance to have you that way – or you having me that way. I want you to tell me."

"I just want to feel you," Chris said, his brow contracting. "Not all the time, not every time, but sometimes... I just want to give this to you."

Tom knew what he meant, that moment of orgasm, when he was coming, it was always more than just a mechanical, necessary end to being so aroused, it was giving up a part of your soul in that moment. A gift of love and desire, filling up the other person with love, adoration, passion, giving up a part of yourself for the other person to take away with them. And the beautiful and maddening thing was you had to do it over and over and over again because it never stuck, did it?

"I love you so, so much," Tom said. "Thank you for giving this to me."

"Hm," Chris mumbled, snuggling back into him. "So tired."

"I love you, I love you, I love you," Tom whispered, holding him close. He felt Chris' smile against his chest, and his kiss against his skin. "Sleep tight, my love."

"Clean up?" Chris mumbled, already half asleep.

"Let me have you a little longer," Tom said. "Not done with you yet."

Chris made a sound that Tom freely interpreted as: "I love you back so much but I'm too tired to move my mouth."

It was fine with him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom went running that morning, and when he came back, Chris was reading on his tablet in the living room, checking his mails and browsing the 'net while music was playing softly in the background.

"Good run?" he asked.

"Uh-huh." Tom was still sweating profusely. Having kicked off his shoes in the hallway, he was moving around the living room, trying to get his body to come down from his runner's high.

"There's coffee waiting for you in the kitchen if you want it," Chris said. "I actually just brewed it a minute ago." He lifted his own cup.

Tom stood behind the sofa and kissed him upside-down. "You're a saint."

When he came back, he took a seat on the edge of the sofa, perching on the arm rest with his socked feet under Chris' thighs, trying not to get his sweaty back in contact with his furniture.

"You set the table," he said. "Chris."

"I actually got everything ready for breakfast and put it back in the fridge," Chris said, putting his tablet away. "I was just waiting for you to come home."

Tom pulled his shirt. "Sweaty."

"Breakfast after your shower then," Chris smiled. "I've got every contingency covered."

Tom eyed him over the rim of his cup, then set the cup aside and straddled Chris' legs. "You said you love me sweaty," he said. "Prove it, Hemsworth."

Chris laughed, his hands cupping Tom's ass easily. "You're not just sweaty, you're dirty sweaty," he teased, crinkling up his nose. "I mean, really, really dirty."

Tom laughed. "That's what you get for running in November rain on a dirt road... hmpf." He'd been pulled into a kiss, and was happy to be shut up for a good reason.

"Are we going to talk about last night?" Chris finally said, breaking the kiss. "Hm?"

"About what?" Tom's lips tingled nicely.

"About me spilling some secret while you had me come undone?" Chris said.

"Which secret?"

"That I sometimes wish I could come inside of you?" Chris rubbed Tom's thighs. "You know which one."

"Okay." Tom fished for his cup and had another sip. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to know if you're okay with that," Chris said earnestly.

"You fantasizing about it or you wanting to do something about it?"

"Both," Chris said.

"Hm." Considering the fact that Chris' hands on his thighs seemed to transmit directly to his cock, Tom put his cup away, captured them and threaded their fingers, needing a moment to think undistracted. He was glad that Chris was so straightforward about it.

"I was worrying that you were out running because of that," Chris admitted. "I don't want it to stand between us, okay?"

"Oh! Actually, no, just that I didn't get to run yesterday and really needed it," Tom said. "I love getting my head clear out there, but trust me, there were loads of pleasant things on my mind this morning, like what we're going to do with that lovely stretch of weekend we have ahead of us and how many different ways I could make love to you in the span of 36 hours."

Chris laughed. "Well, the theme fits right in, then."

"The thing is, I love that you fantasize about me. Please never stop. If you want to share your fantasies with me, I'd feel honored. But I don't feel like I need to do anything about it right away, if you know what I mean. I love listening to you and going off on it with you, like last night, but it's not like I think this is a veiled attempt at getting me to do it."

He could see in Chris' expression that he was both relieved and a little disappointed.

"I'm sorry," Tom said, chuckling. "So it is a veiled attempt at getting me to do it?"

Chris shrugged. "Not at that moment, but... would you think about it?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while, a whole week, in fact." Tom said. "While I was contemplating how to fulfill your wish of doing it to you. The thing is, I know how you feel, and I love that you want to be even closer. But still, just thinking about even having anything near... there... is making me clench up. Just the thought is supremely uncomfortable to me. It's just not an area that I have ever considered erotic. It's just there to get rid of waste."

"Oh, that makes it sound wonderfully arousing," Chris laughed.

Tom shrugged. "It's just how I feel about it."

"Fair enough," Chris said. "But why are you even considering doing it to me?"

"Um, I'm not sure." Tom's brow contracted in thought. "It would be such a new experience, and you seem to want it so much. Of course I'd ask you to clean yourself up beforehand, but if I use a condom, I suppose nothing could really happen."

"That doesn't really sound like something you'd like to do," Chris said. "I really don't want you to do it for my sake, Tom, if it's something that makes you so uncomfortable."

"Hm." It did make Tom think.

"What's going through your head?" Chris wanted to know. "Hm?"

Tom shrugged. "I guess... can I think about the answer for a moment?"

"Kiss first?" Chris asked.

Tom smiled. "Always."

  
  


* * *

  
  


They had a leisurely breakfast, with Chris whipping up pancakes and omelets that Tom practically swooned over. They both basked in knowing that they had an unplanned day, intentionally kept that way to give Chris a chance to sleep and recuperate from his week. There were a few things they might do, and a couple of calls they might make later, but for right now, it was just the two of them, for the first time since that fateful Friday night.

It was luxury at its best, and they both intended to take full advantage of it.

So after they cleaned up the kitchen, Tom got on the recliner with a few scripts that he had been sent from his agents during the week, and Chris climbed after him, lying between his legs, his head pillowed on Tom's stomach.

He got settled in, Tom's legs wrapping around him securely, his arms stretched out around Tom, and sighed with pleasure. "I want to die like this."

"Not any time soon, sweetheart." Tom smiled at him. "Do you want to go ahead and take a nap? I'll be reading for a bit."

"You are so the best boyfriend ever," Chris said. He looked up adoringly at Tom, who ran his fingers gently through his hair, making Chris purr. Being so tired and exhausted after such a long week made him sentimental and needy, he knew. After a moment of letting himself being rocked by Tom's regular breathing, he decided that he didn't have enough exposure yet, and slipped his head under Tom's cardigan, inhaling his scent deeply.

"Are you comfortable then?" Tom asked, sounding amused.

"Hm." Chris kissed the stomach under him. "Can't help that I can't get enough of you," he said resolutely. "But yes, I think that'll do."

"Sleep tight." Tom transferred his caresses to his neck and shoulders, and a few moments later, Chris was out like a light.

He woke up because Tom was shifting under him. He wondered for a moment why it was so dark, but then realized that his head was still under Tom's cardigan, and he smiled.

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice sleep-laden.

"Twelve," Tom said. "I'm sorry I woke you. My butt was falling asleep."

"I slept for two and a half hours?" Chris blinked, and came out, his hair sticking every-which-way.

"Looks like you needed it." Tom wasn't reading any more.

Chris slid up the recliner and they settled down together, legs intertwined, sharing a pillow.

"Did you get any sleep?" Chris asked.

"I think I dozed off for a moment but no, I was really reading for a while, and then just thinking," Tom said.

"I love you so much," Chris said. "Should I stop saying it? Still feels like my heart is going too full if I don't for a while."

Tom softly shook his head. "No, don't," he said. "Keep telling me."

Chris' hand slipped around his neck, his thumb caressing Tom's cheek. "Hard to believe it's just been a week."

"I guess at some point we're going to get used to it," Tom said. "Not there yet."

"No." Chris pulled him closer. "Not sure I'll ever be." He let their foreheads connect, needing to taste Tom's breath. It felt intense, intimate, charged with something he was not sure he wanted to do anything to diffuse.

Tom shifted, his lips almost touching Chris'. "I'm out of words," he said. "That never happens to me, Chris, but I have no words for this."

"Good." Chris brushed his lips against Tom's, the tenderest of touches. His tongue dipped in, licking tenderly at Tom's lips. He saw Tom's brow contract, felt his hip moving into him. He exhaled, his chest full to bursting.

"Please make love to me," Tom whispered. "Please."

A few moments later, they were in the bedroom, blinds drawn, naked and pressed against each other, both of them breathing heavily at the sensation of skin on skin. Chris was slowly kissing his way from Tom's shoulder up to his neck, the small, needy sounds that Tom made running currents over his skin. His fingertips traced along Tom's spine and he felt him arch into his body, making his breath hitch. He felt tears come to his eyes and didn't do anything to hold them back. They dripped on Tom's skin, wetting his collar bone, and Chris licked them off, lapping softly a them while Tom rose into his touch with a deep sigh. He sucked at his skin, licked tenderly at his nipples, pressed his face into the softness of Tom's solar plexus. Tom was pliant under his touch, moving into his mouth, his hands stroking softly through his hair, tracing along his face, neck, and shoulders.

Chris reached under Tom's leg and lifted it to lie over his back, his face pressed into the junction of his hip. His thumb caressed the inside of Tom's leg as his hand slid along it, then he let his lips follow. He heard Tom's sobbing, indrawn breath, kissing and sucking his way down to the inside of Tom's knee, then bending it so he could do the same down to his ankle. Tom gave a soft cry when he sucked on his instep, indicating just how sensitive his long, slender feet were.

Chris' hands ran down his leg, one drawing tender circles on his butt, the other tracing down to the soft skin at the juncture of his hip. He got to his knees and rolled Tom on his back, then lifted the other leg over his shoulder, as well. In the dim light of the drawn blinds, he could see Tom laid out in front of him like a sacrifice, open, tender, vulnerable. The need to come inside of him, feel him so close, being so connected, was overwhelming.

And for the very, very first time it hit Chris that he was with a man, a person not naturally equipped to receive him. Who, as aroused as he might be, would never get wet for him, someone he could not bathe his face in, could not taste and lap up their juices. It had been something he had always enjoyed doing, for Elsa and for his other girlfriends, being so close, drinking them in, feeling them flutter around his tongue, receiving him so eagerly when he finally moved into them, clenching around his cock, drawing him in, no extra lubrication required.

He realized he would never have that again, as he had absolutely no doubt that he wanted to be with Tom for the rest of his life. The loss hit him like a brick, sudden and surprising.

The expression on his face must have betrayed him as Tom picked up on it immediately and swung up, crossing his legs in front of Chris' knees. "Chris. Hey. What's going on?"

Chris just blinked, feeling vulnerable and lost, and not sure he could share that exact detail with Tom without hurting him so very, very much.

"Sweetheart, talk to me. Hey." Tom cupped his jaw in his hand. "Come here."

And Chris crawled into his lap, crossing his legs behind Tom's back, their very erect cocks meeting in the middle. He pressed against him, comforted by being so close, his arms slung around Tom's shoulders, face pressed against his neck.

"Shhhh..." Tom made a soothing noise. "Whatever it is, it's okay."

Chris pressed his eyes closed, concentrating on feeling Tom against him, the short hair on the back of his head against his fingertips, the soft skin under his ear against his lips, his slender body in his arms. Tom's cock against his own, so lovely, curving elegantly up to his navel, the head red and glistening, hot and thick against his own.

"I'm being terribly stupid," he answered. He knew it would not go away. "I only just realized that there are some ways I will never be able to make love to you. It took me a week to get it that you're not a woman."

"What gave me away?" Tom asked, his voice full of gentleness.

Chris bumped his forehead against Tom's shoulder. "I feel like a complete idiot, asking you for something that you can't give me, and I didn't realize why I wanted it. It was like something that was on the agenda to do with you, and I just now realized it’s not going to happen."

"Will you go somewhere else to get it?" Tom wanted to know.

"What? No! Like it or not, you're stuck with me; and I promised you I would not stray. I never will. You are all I need."

"I'm sorry, that was an incredibly insensitive question."

"It's just... you're giving me so much, I didn't even begin to start thinking that there were some things that I was giving up to have this. And... and it's not really that, it's just that... that I want to give myself to you in ways you can't receive me, and that... that just hurts. Like I'm missing a bunch of words and can't express myself the way I want to. You taught me so many new words in the past week that I didn't even realize that anything had gone missing."

"Maybe we can find new ways to express what you're missing," Tom said tentatively.

"I can't come inside of you. You're not getting wet for me. You can’t receive me that way." Chris spilled. "I want to have all that, with you, do you understand? I want to have all that with you, and we can't. And please don't be honorable and retreat and let me go. I want you. _I want you._ I want all of that with you. I want to be inside of you, and I want to make love with you so deeply that you can still feel me for the rest of the day. I want all of that with you." He pressed his forehead against Tom's and reached down to touch him, running the back of his finger against Tom's erection. "And I want this. I want your cock in my hands, in my mouth, against me, and I want you and your lips and your mind and hands and body, the way you moan, the way you say I love you, the way you bend yourself to my lust. I want to make you come and catch you. I want to go to sleep with you, I want to wake up with you, I want to see that expression in your eyes when you look at me. I want _your_ kisses, _your_ touch, I want your cock between my legs, I want you to pound me into the wall and I want you to make such sweet love to me that it feels like my soul is going to break apart. I want to long for you for the rest of my days."

"I want that, too." Tom drew a shuddering breath. "You have the words that I can't find."

Chris smiled. "How funny is it that I have the words for this, and you don't? Hm? My love." He dipped his head and kissed Tom, opened his lips sweetly with his own. Tom tasted so good. His body immediately rose against Chris' body, his fingers feathering down his spine. Chris found himself moving against Tom, his balls tightening with lust. "I want you so damn much, Tom."

"But you want me in ways that I'm not able to give you," Tom said.

"How is it for you?" Chris asked. "Are you missing anything?"

Tom snorted, and shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't. I don't miss having only one way to make love. I love how we think of new things all the time. Like you just did that with my leg; I was quivering. You keep doing things to me that I've never done, or never experienced, or have never allowed myself to experience because there was this one pre-described way of how everyone was supposed to make love when in a male-female relationship, and how everyone was supposed to behave. And I've only just begun to understand that there are so many other options out there, and what that means. That the sky is the limit. That I can do what I want. That I can be with you... whoever I feel I need to be. You never judge, and you never make fun of me."

"I make fun _with_ you," Chris smiled.

"Yeah." Tom's fingertips drew gentle circles on Chris' chest, criss-crossed over his stomach, brushed against his erection.

Chris moaned.

"You can come inside my mouth," Tom whispered. "I will receive you gladly. I will swallow you until there is none of you left."

Chris whimpered, and kissed him, finding himself moving into Tom.

"And you can always, always come between my legs, Chris. I love how you come between my legs, love feeling you coating me with your come, just like you love it when I do it to you. I love carrying it around for a little while. I never want you to clean me up right away. I love feeling you, love feeling your come dripping down my legs like a benediction."

"I love that, too," Chris whispered. "I love doing it to you, and I love receiving it from you."

"Any time, okay? Just ask. Think. We can do it to each other. How much richer is that?"

Tom did have a point, Chris had to admit. He picked up the pace, feeling his cock sliding against Tom's. It was a fairly tight fit, him sitting so deeply in Tom's lap. Their balls gently swayed against each other. He certainly had never had that.

"And I am getting wet for you," Tom pointed out. "I'm leaking for you. Always. You touch me, I drip. I go through more pairs of underwear with you than I ever have. If I didn't, all my trousers would be stained."

"Let me taste you," Chris asked.

"You know where it is," Tom said gently, stroking over his head. "Touch me, Chris."

Chris moaned softly, but complied. How had he never really noticed that yes, Tom was positively dripping, not only the head but also the sides of his marvelous cock slippery with his pre-come. He licked it off his fingers, and then slid down to lick it off Tom's cock.

Tom had a truly magnificent cock. Chris had played enough team sports to have seen quite a selection, but nothing like this: long, slender, proud, elegant. It was like Tom. He spread Tom's legs, sucking softly at the inside of his hips, moving the curly hair around his cock aside to have more room to lick and taste. He switched sides, noticing yet another bead of pre-come at the tip.

He moved to suck it off, causing Tom to tremble and swear. He licked. He sucked at the underside of his cock, gently making his way down. Another bead. The taste exploded on his tongue. He flicked his eyes towards Tom's face. "For me?"

"Only for you, my love." Tom looked quite flushed, quite undone. His hand was in Chris' hair, his hips moved into him. "Love me more."

Chris remembered what Tom had said, that there was no pre-described way to do this. He enjoyed making love to Tom like this, but he didn't like to do it matter-of-factly. There was so much to taste and smell and see. He didn't quite see how just sucking at it should be all there was.

He settled in, once more draping Tom's legs over his shoulders, along his back. Tom's heels were digging into him when he wantonly licked up his ball sack, tugged at it with his lips. Tom trembled when he sucked in one of his balls, let it roll on his tongue, sucked gently at it. Another bead. Two. Tom was positively leaking. Chris reached up and spread the come along his shaft, making it easy to let it slide through the loose loop of his forefinger and thumb, a stimulation he had noticed Tom loved most. He tasted the other testicle, then dropped his head into the crevice between Tom's leg and scrotum, sucking at the skin there. There was a rich flavor, a rich scent, Tom's precome now forming a little puddle on his stomach, dripping into his navel. Chris nosed along Tom's balls, nudged them up, sucked on Tom's perineum.

Tom started keening.

And Chris spread him, kissed his way from his perineum to his beautiful, pristine hole, kissed around it, with Tom's legs trembling around his ears, but he let him. Let him have this. Another taste, another scent. Chris reached up, giving Tom's hard, twitching cock an appreciative stroke. Two. His tongue pressed against Tom's hole. Tom's whole body arched up, his heels digging into Chris' back.

Chris didn't miss one fucking thing.

"Hand me the massage oil," he requested hoarsely. He felt Tom stretch, and using him as leverage, but a moment later, the oil was in his hands. He pushed up a little, hovering over Tom's cock, licking it like a lollipop, broad stroke after broad stroke.

"Chris... Chris... I'm going to come... god... Chris, I'm going to come."

"Uh-huh." Chris pushed up, stopped licking him, just kept his legs spread for him. "No you won't." His cock came to rest against Tom, right against his balls and crack. Tom drew a hissing breath. Since Chris was almost kneeling now, Tom was open and vulnerable, but he didn't seem to mind.

Chris uncorked the bottle and let the oil drip slowly along Tom's shaft. Tom was writhing, swearing, his hands grabbing fistfuls of bedding. His head snapped back and he cried out when Chris hit the head of his cock, dripping and dripping and dripping on that one spot that was so, so sensitive.

"So close so close so close so close," Tom chanted. "Fuck."

Chris let him be, leaned back a little, very carefully spread Tom and then dripped down his perineum. He dripped and dripped until the oil ran into his crack, running in little rivulets around his hole and made a small puddle on the sheets. Only then did Chris touch him, rubbing gently at his perineum, slathering his crack, then gently swirling two fingers around Tom's hole, just sliding over him, no pressure, no attempt at penetration. He was just... there.

Then he leaned in close and breathed on it. Tom's resulting cry nearly left him deaf, Tom's hips lifting off the bed, his thighs closing around Chris' head like a vice.

Chris ducked, securing Tom's legs along his back, pressing his knees closer to his ears. When he straightened, Tom's pelvis rolled up, and Chris' cock settled firmly in Tom's crack. It was a strenuous position, having to keep Tom's weight on his shoulders like that, but this was a use of his permanent training that he could really get behind. Aided by the massage oil, his cock easily slid into Tom's crack. Chris reached down and pressed his ass cheeks together, then leaned in and started sliding in this natural cleft, groaning and straining with each push.

Tom was beside himself. It was so hard to keep him in a position that Chris could use, but it was worth it. Here he was, writhing, whimpering, begging, pleading. He was drenched in sweat, head-to-foot, his fists permanently clawed into the sheets, his hips pressing down into where Chris was methodically taking him apart. The puckered area around his hole really gave Chris' cock a workout, each time he brushed against it, he was shuddering. Chris leaned forward, nearly folding Tom in half, his thrusts more insistent now, and then folding himself in half and tasting Tom's cock again, leading it up into his mouth, sucking at the head.

And then things kind of exploded. He didn't know what came first, Tom pumping his seed into his mouth, or him pumping his seed all over Tom; it very nearly happened at the same time. Chris was incoherent with his orgasm, moving into Tom time and again, pushing and straining against him while he was swallowing and swallowing and swallowing. Tom did nothing small. He gave, and Chris received.

Finally, Tom's body relaxed, but Chris was still moving against him until his cock finally gave out. He didn't want to clean up Tom. He wanted Tom covered in his come, slathered around his balls and cock, dripping into his crack.

Slowly, very slowly, Chris let first one leg slide off his shoulder, then the other. The relief was instant, and at the same time, Chris already mourned the weight. He dropped forward on all fours and licked at Tom's stomach, loving its salty taste. He looked up; Tom's eyes were closed, he looked like he was listening to something that Chris was not prone to. Chris dropped by his side, one hand between Tom's legs, sliding gently in his own come.

It took quite some time before Tom stopped quivering and shaking, and was ready to notice him again. They both just looked at each other, then Tom rolled over, his legs closing around Chris’ hand.

Chris wanted to touch him, but his hand was still otherwise occupied, so he just smiled, and Tom smiled back, very faintly, exhausted.

“I love you,” he mouthed. “But if we don’t have a bit of vanilla sex next, I’m going to break.”

Chris hummed, and chuckled. “Hm, just a nice bit of a mutual wank, huh?”

“Sounds excellent to me,” Tom said tiredly.

Under his hand, Chris felt his cock twitch.


	14. Transitions

Exhausted as they were, they fell asleep once again, but no hour later, the door bell rang, and rather insistently at that.

"Ignore it," Chris mumbled.

"Okay." Tom turned over, draping himself across Chris' back. He kissed the nice, warm shoulder under his lips and prepared to go back to sleep.

_RRRRING._

"Oh, for crying out loud." Chris pulled a pillow over his head.

Without wanting to, Tom's thoughts started circling who it could possibly be, and he suddenly shot up. "Damn!"

"What?"

"Damn damn damn damn." Tom started scrambling for something, anything to wear, and realized he was still covered in come – a lot of it. Most of it Chris'. He grimaced.

"Chris. Chris! Chris, can you answer the door please," he urged, pushing at his boyfriend's shoulder.

"What? Why?" His face was puffy and sleepy when it came out from under the pillow.

"I'm waiting for a parcel. It's important. And I'm covered in your come! I need to clean up real quick – can you answer the door, please, and stall them?"

Groaning, Chris blinked, his eyes raking Tom's body. His eyebrows shot up when he arrived at Tom's nether region, which was still glistening with a mix of his semen and the massage oil he had used. "Holy shit."

"No kidding." Tom laughed. "I'm squelching. Please be a darling, just use the intercom and tell them we're home."

"Okay." Chris yawned, but rolled himself out of bed and trudged out the door. Butt naked. Literally.

Tom had no time to admire the view. He'd bought wet wipes last week to store by the bed, which he now used rather liberally on himself, leaving them in a pile when he was struggling to look for something to wear. He grabbed the first thing he could find – his tracking pants – and then just grabbed for the nearest shirt. It ended up being Chris's.

"You need to sign for it!" Chris called from the hallway.

"I thought so! Tell them to come up!" He dashed into the bathroom, splashed a bit of water in his face and ran a brush through his short hair.

"You look smashing," Chris told him as he passed him.

"Ha ha." Tom couldn't resist and smacked his bottom on his way to the door. He pressed the buzzer and turned around, just to see Chris sashay back towards the bedroom, make a languid turn at the door jamb, and bat his lashes coyly as he waved at him.

"I'll be waiting," he announced.

"Chris." Tom started giggling. A knock came at the door. "I'm sure our post man will really enjoy that view, but..."

"You never let me have any fun." Chris pouted prettily.

"If you want it that way..." Tom turned the key and grabbed the door handle.

Chris pretended to be scandalized and finally disappeared from sight.

Tom opened the door and accepted the package. He had to sign for it and did, thanking the post man for coming all the way up to his door. After he was gone, he closed the door again and held the parcel in his hand, rattling it slightly.

He knew what was in it. He'd ordered it a couple of days ago in anticipation of the weekend with Chris, and now... now it was suddenly something that he was not quite sure how to breach. Literally.

He still held the package when he trudged back into the bedroom, nearly walking right out again.

"Woah!"

"It smells kinda ripe, doesn't it?" Chris was still threadless, his hands at his hips as he was surveying the mess that was their bed. "And it's a bit squishy." He wrinkled his nose.

"Kind of ripe is putting it mildly," Tom said, his eyes wide. 

"I guess this is the end of that," Chris said, sighing dramatically.

Tom put the parcel on the dresser and moved to embrace Chris from behind, kissing his cheek. "Do you want to put on new sheets and start over?" Chris looked at him and his expression was so pitiful, Tom laughed. "I take it that's a no?" he asked, gently rubbing Chris' ripped stomach.

"I'm twisting myself for ways to say 'No' and sound manly while doing it," Chris admitted. "Fact is, you keep wearing me out, you thin rail of nothing!" He turned around and wrestled Tom to bed after all.

"Uh-huh." Tom started tickling him, Chris tickled back, then pillows started flying. However sexually charged the mood had been two hours earlier, they had obviously exhausted it thoroughly for the time being. Slightly sweaty, grinning broadly, they finally lay on the bed on their backs, catching their breaths.

"Are we eating in or out?" Chris asked, looking over to him. "I have to admit I'd love to see something else than the set or this flat."

"Do you still want to buy furniture for India?" Tom asked, rolling on his stomach so he could see him better.

"Um..." Chris heaved a huge sigh. He drew a grimace. "Actually... I have no idea if Elsa will even leave India with us at all at this point," he admitted.

"What?" This was news to Tom. "But you agreed to the counseling, I thought that was the deal?"

"She said some really... hurtful things about not wanting India to see us together," Chris said.

"When was that?" Tom asked.

"Um... Monday night."

Tom took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. A whole lot of things went through his head at once. How glad he'd been just to have Chris this week. The few moments they had had opportunity to share had been blessedly Elsa-free and he had, in truth, not asked, not wanting to lose a single second with Chris to something that had been so painful before, and that they might not have been able to solve within the few moments on the phone, or pressed against each other at night.

"Tom...?" He felt the bed dip between them as Chris rolled on his side and touched the back of his hand.

Tom sighed and turned his head to look at Chris. Chris nudged his hip so he would also lie on his side and they could look at each other.

"We can't keep fighting over Elsa," Chris said. "I won't have it."

"I didn't say anything," Tom said. "I just sighed."

Chris gave him a look.

"Not saying anything about her at all isn't working either, though," Tom said.

"It is always weird, no matter how we do it," Chris said. "Because things with Elsa and me are so private, and things between you and me are private, too. If she didn't keep asking all these questions, I wouldn't even... even really talk about you. I mean... just exactly how... you know."

"Did she ask again?" Tom wanted to know. He was curious, not angry.

Chris nodded.

"And did you give her an answer she could do something with?"

Chris shrugged. "I just know that she sent me a mail the next day asking to be left alone for a bit."

"So you haven't seen or heard India for a week, either?"

Chris shook his head. "Elsa's sending pictures. She tells me what India's been up to and how she's doing, but that's it."

The extend of it was staggering. For a split second, Tom had some serious doubts about his own worth as a human being. He was breaking up that family. For real. Someone else paid the price for him being so immeasurably happy.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It isn't your fault." Chris said. His eyes searched Tom's face. "You know what's kind of the hardest thing about all of this?"

"Hm?"

"It's... how do I put it. You and Elsa kind of do the same thing."

"Huh?"

"She's really trying to figure out what she did wrong," Chris said. "And you are really trying to take on some responsibility, as well."

"Eh..."

"It's not making it easier," Chris said.

Tom looked at him, a million responses wanting to be said and being discharged.

"Every one of us is kind of in their own world, trying to make sense of this," Chris thought out loud. "I'm not sure there is any to find. Maybe... sometimes we just are in circumstances that cause hurt to the people we love, whether we like it or not. Maybe sometimes we're in circumstances where we have to choose whether we want to hurt ourselves, or hurt the other person – and I've been egotistical, I chose to rather hurt someone else than me."

Tom listened to him, touched and fascinated. There it was again, that thoughtful, deep side of Chris that had slowly been emerging in his presence. Tom hardly dared to breathe.

"I will tell you something, Tom, I've hurt long enough. I've been... hurting to be with you long enough. I know how miserable it is. I'm not... I'm never going back. What we have... you don't push that away. You don't."

"No," Tom said quietly. "You don't."

"So... I'm taking on the responsibility. I'm hurting Elsa with my decision to want to be with you. I would hurt myself so much more if I stayed with her. I can't. I'm to blame here. But I'm done feeling guilty. I'm making a decision that is good for me. I'm making a decision for someone who makes my soul smile. And there is nothing you need to feel guilty about other than making me happy."

"I'm okay with that," Tom said. He reached out to touch Chris' cheek. "Making you happy, I mean."

"And I think..." Chris drew a deep breath. "I don't know, when people break up, I think everyone needs their space. You and me need to figure out what we want and how we want it. Elsa needs to figure out how her life is going to change now, where she can find what she needs. If India wasn't there..."

"But she is."

"Yes, but Elsa is also right," Chris said. "I can't expect her to be here in London just because I want India to be near."

"That's what custody agreements are for," Tom cautioned. "Don't give away your daughter, Chris."

"This is all so complicated... and frustrating," Chris huffed. "Elsa is using India as leverage, and that really upsets me. On the other hand, it's working. I've been really shitty to her, giving her the news and assuming everything would still be the same, that she and India would still be available to me. She's made me realize that might not be the case. It won't be. I know I will be listening better the next time we talk, even if her methods don't agree with me."

"Do you miss them?" Tom wanted to know.

"Tom, what kind of good does an answer to that question do anybody?" Chris said. "It is what it is."

"Do. You miss them?" Tom insisted gently.

"I miss them less than I thought I would," Chris said frankly. "Between long days on the set and wanting to be home with you... no, I miss them less than I thought I would."

Tom leaned in and kissed him. Just to let him know that he was there, that Chris was not alone in this. Because Tom was sure – absolutely positive, in fact – that once the newness had worn off a bit, once the stress had died down from filming, Chris would miss them, would miss his daughter most, but would miss Elsa as well.

"Chris, Elsa is coming back next weekend, right? At least for the counseling?"

"I think so," Chris said.

"Would you like India to spend some time with the two of us?"

There was a flicker of pain crossing Chris' face. Of not wanting to wish for something that might not happen. "Yes," he said.

"Can I ask Elsa if it would be all right that India spends some time with me next weekend?"

"But it's not..."

"Not my responsibility? You said I can take responsibility to make you happy, right?"

Chris looked at him, wanting it so badly. "Tom, she also wants to spend some time with me, alone with her and India," he said. "I offered her Saturday night, when you're off at your event, but she might ask for another date just to spite us. I don't know what to do."

"Chris, this sounds like something we should talk about, all three of us. It concerns everyone's schedules, not just yours and Elsa's."

"She's going to hate it."

"Let's give it a try?" Tom held Chris' eyes, waiting for his consent. He could see it in Chris' eyes how hard it was for him to share any of this, but he finally nodded. 

"Okay."

"I'll just send her a text asking if she has time to talk, okay? Then the ball is in her court and she can decide if she wants to talk to me or not."

"Okay." He could see Chris' lip quiver, and him biting it to make it stop. Tom knew everything about wanting something so badly you could not admit to yourself you did in case it didn't come to pass.

"Go get dressed, honey." Tom kissed him. "I love you."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom sent his text, then they washed up a bit, changed the sheets and aired the bedroom. Chris was nervous; he kept fidgeting and biting his lower lip, and Tom finally took him to the kitchen and fed him some chocolate pudding to calm his nerves when finally, his phone rang.

"Hi Elsa," he said. "Thank you for calling me back."

"Hi," she said. "You wanted to talk to me?"

And Tom made a split second decision. "If you have a moment? Let me just go up to the office so we can talk privately."

He heard her exhale on the other end, and then say: "Sure."

"Great. I'll be right with you." He hit the mute button. "Chris, trust me, please." He could see that this was not what Chris had had in mind. "Please."

A few moments later, he was upstairs, and closed the door behind him. He unmuted the phone and took the call.

"We're alone now," Tom said. "Hi again."

"Hey."

Tom took a breath, and then just said: "Wow, this is strange."

"Yeah." He heard sounds of wind in trees on her end.

"Are you outside?" he asked, trying to find some way to start.

"Yeah, out on a walk," Elsa said.

And he found himself saying something he had not planned to say at all.

"Elsa, I'm... I know this changes absolutely nothing about how you must feel... but... I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For causing you so much pain."

"Don't feel sorry for me, Hiddleston, I couldn't stand it," Elsa said. "Really, that humiliation on top of all the others? No. You got your prize. You don't get to have absolution for it."

Tom exhaled on a humorless laugh. It seemed he had needed that kind of "don't-bullshit-me". He realized that he had a respect for Elsa's integrity that he had never felt for her before. "Fair enough," he said. "You're right. It's egotistical." He brushed a hand through the hair on top of his head. And he said something else he had not planned on saying: "How are you?"

Elsa said nothing for a moment, and then snorted. "This is why you're calling?" she said. "To pity me?"

"No, I... I'm sorry. I seem to get it all wrong but dammit, it's not easy."

"What do you want?" Elsa asked bluntly.

Okay, this was not going as planned at all.

"Elsa is there any way we can just talk? Or... I mean, if you want to scream and shout at me, we can do that, too, but... I really just called to talk. Not to yell, not to make you feel bad, just talk."

"What about?" she asked.

"India," he said.

"Has Chris set you up to this?" she asked suspiciously.

"Actually, he's not really in favor of me calling you at all and... I think he's having stomach aches about me just walking out and talking to you in private," Tom confided. "So, no."

Elsa blew out a breath. " _Dios mio_ , he really screwed that up."

"If you worry about that, he doesn't really tell me anything about you," Tom said. "So I don't really know what's going on, just that something went wrong."

"He doesn't tell me anything about you, either, in case you are worrying," Elsa said.

"That's why I called," Tom said. "I know it's... it's awkward. It is for me."

"Yeah."

"But... I want to know... Elsa... he may want to bring India around, and I want to make sure you're okay with that."

Elsa blew out a breath and then it was quiet for quite some time at the other end.

"Elsa?" Tom finally asked.

"That.. that just makes it so real," she said, and he could hear the pain in her voice. "That he would want to take her to spend time with someone else. She's _our_ child."

"I know," Tom said.

"We made her, and he was there when she was born, and we've done everything together so far. The three of us. That's what's so hard. You're an idiot, but you wouldn't hurt her," she said. "I'm not afraid to leave her with you. You know her and she likes you and I know when Chris is around everything will be fine, but... that really hurts."

He didn't want to cheapen her emotion with a rhetorical comment, so he didn't.

After a long time, she exhaled and said: "Yeah, it's all right."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Tom asked. "He might want to have her here overnight."

"I know. He said. I wasn't nice about it. I said some really awful things."

"I... I don't know if that helps any, but... I was that kid. Once." He couldn't believe he was telling her that.

"Huh?"

"My parents. They divorced when I was twelve, so... a lot older than India. But I've been there. Both my parents are with new partners. You get kind of shipped back and forth. Or boarded out. At least India isn't getting boarded out. And the worst is when your parents fight. When they fight over who gets to see whom when. Because you love them both and want them to get along and not hurt all the time. Because in the end... you know who your parents are. Whoever they marry or live with, these are other people, and those are your parents. That never changes. Never." 

He didn't tell her that it was much worse when neither one wanted to see you, and expected you to keep your chin up and be a good boy and at least you're in the best school and the best care and we can just stop being parents for a while and just be hurt without you interfering. That feeling that his mother had been inconsolable, and he had not been there to do something about it, still filled him with the kind of ice cold, helpless fury that he had a hard time suppressing to this day.

"You don't get to take better care of my baby than I do," Elsa said. "Tell Chris..."

"You need to tell him yourself," Tom said. "He's worried sick you're not coming back."

"Ugh." He heard her make a little sound of unwillingness. "You know how hard this is, Tom?" she asked, accusingly. "Did it have to be a man he fell in love with, for Christ's sakes? If it at least had been a woman, I could simply scratch her eyes out! But a man? He's just out of the picture. Unreachable. There's nothing to argue with!"

"You could always yell at me," Tom offered helpfully.

"Yelling at you is like hitting a puppy," she scoffed. "I'd just feel sorry for you."

It made them both laugh. They stopped, it was awkward.

"We have a pack-and-play," Elsa said. "I guess I could bring it along for Elsa to sleep in?"

"Um... Chris was thinking about buying a few things," Tom said. "You would have to talk to him about that."

"He's turning your bachelor's pad into a nursery?" Elsa had to laugh. "I hope she destroys some of your things."

"I have a Dickens first edition I'll give her to chew on," Tom promised. "It's only worth a few thousand pounds, so..."

"That seems to be in the right margin," Elsa said. "Or that Empire award."

"Great teething ring," Tom agreed. "I always thought it lacked some proper drool to make it truly unique."

"What have you got yourself into," Elsa scolded lightly.

"Trust me, after the childhood I had, breaking up a marriage was not on my agenda," Tom said truthfully.

"Why'd you do it after all?" It was the kind of conversation that was barbed with the truth. The unkind, unmasked truth, the one where you expect to be hurt, and acknowledge that you may hurt, and you agree to do it because it's just that needful. It was masked as banter, but it was the kind of conversation Tom could not have with Chris – and he needed it. Needed to be taken to task for what he'd done or he'd combust.

"Because it was inevitable," Tom said. "I've been fighting this from the moment I first set eyes on him and I was sick and tired of fighting. I just couldn't go on that way. It was this or... or something way more drastic. I'm just lucky he feels the same way or this could have ended up very... badly."

"You are both fucking idiots," she swore. He'd never heard her use that word before, so it made an impact.

"You're right."

"I just wish I had listened to myself!" She made an unwilling sound. "He was too good to be true right from the start."

"No, he _is_ that way, that is what makes it so horrible," Tom said. "Because you get used to being loved that way, and when you don't have it, it's hell."

She scoffed. "He's a big softie with no backbone," she said. "I had to make all the decisions or nothing would have ever been done."

"We each love him very differently, then," Tom concluded. He didn't want to go into the details of how, this was not a competition. Either way, if it was one, he'd won it for the time being, and he was not going to rub it in Elsa's face.

"Apparently," she said matter-of-factly. "Obviously. He keeps going on about how you give him something I can't. Seeing as I'm no man and barely come up to his shoulder I can't see how I could ever live up to that."

"No one expects you to."

"I said I don't want your pity, Hiddleston," she said sharply. "And I mean it."

"What _do_ you want, Elsa?" he asked.

"Other than my husband back?" she asked bitterly.

"I'm just figuring that... that we might have to cross paths quite a bit in the future, with India in the middle. What will make this bearable for you?"

"Nothing," Elsa said quietly. "Right now, nothing."

"Let me know if you can think of anything," Tom said. "I mean it."

For once, she did not berate him for being kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blown away by the reception this chapter has received. It really was only meant as a transitional chapter (hence the title) and I didn't really think it was particularly spectacular, either.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has commented or left kudos or just came over to read! I'm a bit at a loss for words right now.


	15. TKO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Chris go shopping for baby furniture

Tom had taken out the car and they'd turned over the back seats for more boot space. It felt domestic and familiar. Tom was so proud to be with Chris; he kept looking at him as he proficiently worked on loosening levers and turning over seats and making sure there was enough space. Chris was properly attired and wore a dark coat over his jeans and sturdy winter shoes. It was very cold and rained every now and then. His long hair was caught in a bun at the back of his neck, but strands of hair kept falling into his face, and Tom could not stop looking.

"Hey. What?" Chris finally asked.

"Nothing." Tom blushed. "Just feeling lucky."

Chris reached over and ran a hand over the short hair at Tom's neck as he smiled at him. "Likewise."

Tom knew he beamed like a headlight. He didn't care.

  
  


Chris was very quiet on their way to the mall. His elbow against the ledge, he leaned his chin on his fist and looked out the window as they drove. After Tom had finished talking with Elsa, he had handed over the phone and left the two of them alone. It felt right... right to get involved and right to try and make it work between the three of them. Maybe he'd been wrong to ask Chris to be kept out of it. Clearly, he was making a contribution to them talking to each other in some kind of civilized manner, at least for India's sake. Because their relationship, it was plain to see, was clearly over.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Tom finally asked.

"Just thinking that this is going to be home," Chris said. "It's strange."

"Home?"

"I take it you're not going to uproot and move to the States with me?" Chris said, giving him a half-amused look. "Yes, home. At least for part of the year."

Tom was simply startled. "I'm feeling a little silly here," he admitted. "I haven't even thought about that." If that wasn't commitment on Chris' part, he didn't know what was.

"I have. I guess being a dad and having a family makes you start thinking more long-term," he said. "I keep thinking how I would like it to be for India... and what I can reasonably make work for her, with the life I lead, and Elsa and I possibly pulling in two different directions. Do you have any idea yet what you're going to do next year?"

"Um.. no. Nothing specific yet," Tom had to admit. "There are a couple of projects I might be interested in, but nothing firm yet."

"What would be your ideal plan?" Chris asked.

"I really love being involved in the local theater and movie scene," Tom admitted. "I love all the judging I get to do this year, and all the small side-projects. It's nice that people come to me with ideas and stuff. Makes me feel involved in my own community, and I finally get to give something back for all the amazing help I've been getting."

"And as for acting?" Chris asked.

"Ungh, you know how it is, Chris, lots of wishes, and you never know what may happen."

"Spill."

"I want to do a theater run," Tom said. "I really crave it, to be honest. Just three months of hitting the boards, no glitter, no limelight, no press junkets – just me, and Shakespeare, and an audience."

"In London."

"Yes. I love the West End. This is where I cut my teeth. I want to know if I'm still any good – and I want to earn the appreciation of my peers. This is really important to me. It's where my roots are, and sometimes I feel as if I'm losing them in all the glitz and pretend." He'd never shared that with anyone. "I guess we Brits are that way," he mused. "Most of us go back to the stage at intervals. Judy and Ben are going back to the stage to be in a play together next spring. I was so jealous, I knew I had to do something about it."

Chris gave him an amused look. "I'd love to see that," he admitted.

"Actually, the RAD Actors League meets tomorrow," Tom said. "Want to come?"

"Rat actors?"

Tom laughed. "No, R-A-D Actors. RADA alumni, basically. I got a text by Becca sometime last week saying that a bunch of our classmates are in town. We sometimes get together for a few hours of letting loose. It's always a tremendous amount of fun."

"Um..." Tom let his eyes leave the road long enough to see Chris' eyes light up, but he wiped his hands on his jeans and stalled. "I didn't even go to your school."

"Nobody will care," Tom assured him.

"I didn't even go to acting school, ever," Chris pointed out. "You sure your mates would want me there?"

"Chris, you're one of the best actors I know. So what if you know intuitively what to do?"

"Sometimes I wish I'd taken the time and got a formal education," Chris admitted. "Get trained to do more than light entertainment or action."

Tom was stunned. "Chris, then you need to come. They will love you."

"Will you do any Shakespeare?" Chris asked, sounding a bit nervous.

"We might. It's always tremendously off the cuff and over the top. I never not come out in a splendid mood."

"Okay. Yeah. I'd love that." Chris laughed softy. It sounded nervous, but also excited.

Tom was amazed. He kept discovering new sides of Chris he had had no idea existed, and each one of them was perfect and amazing. "I'm glad," he said, reaching over to press Chris' knee. "It's going to be so much fun!"

  
  


They turned into the car park a few moments later, and found a spot on the employee's lot. As much as Tom would love to just keep behaving like everyone else, there were times when he did pull his status for some privacy, and this was one of those times. He could see that his sister was already there, her minivan parking across the lane. They got out of the car, and into their coats, and then walked over to the van.

"Hey man." Evie's husband, Bobbie, was the first to emerge, and they shared a quick handshake and cursory hug. "Good to see you. Haven't seen you in a while. Hey Chris!" They shook hands.

Again, Chris was like family to them already, and while the two of them started chatting about Bobbie's impending double fatherhood, Tom swiftly made his way around the van and opened the passenger door for his sister. There was no way to beat about the bush: Evie was huge. The due date for the twins was just before Christmas, and she did look like a beached whale.

"Sis!"

"Bro. Help me out here." Her center of gravity was completely off, and he ended up with more than an armful of his sister, nephew and niece as she moved down the two steps.

"Woah!"

"This is so pitiful," she complained. "Thanks, Tom."

"Sure." He helped her away from the door and closed it carefully, giving her a moment to compose herself and close her coat. When he turned around, he could see that it stretched tightly over her abdomen. "Sis, this looks dramatic."

"I told you!" She sighed, and took his arm. "Thank you so much for a reason to get out of the house! I was just about to go mad."

Evie had immediately offered to go along and help with the shopping, and when Tom had cautioned about her state, she had nearly taken his head off. She was quite capable of making his lips peel back with the power of her temper tantrum. He had quickly agreed and had edged "Never anger the pregnant lady" permanently into his long-time memory.

Chris obviously had more practice, or she simply didn't think to abuse him like she did her brother and husband. Hooked in under Tom and Chris' arms, she cheerfully chatted with them on their way to the back entrance of the store.

Tom had not said much, just that Chris and Elsa had split up, Chris had moved in for the time being, and they needed furniture for India, but that had already been the moment when Evie said: "Say no more. We will be there." There had be no moment to explain further, and certainly none to refuse.

It was quiet on the sales floor, as they had arranged to come in after the store closed. The store manager had come down personally, and another clerk was in attendance to help out.

Evie turned around herself once, her arms spread. "This is bliss," she said. "I may end up buying something, myself."

"Sweetie, we've been nesting like crazy. Everything's covered in baby stuff," Bobbie cautioned.

"Do you have any maternity wear?" Tom asked the manager.

"Certainly. Right this way."

Tom took Evie by the arms and looked deep into her eyes. "Go get yourself a new coat. With room to spare," he implored her. "My treat."

"It's just another month," she protested.

"And a half. And it's freaking cold out. I don't want you to have to leave buttons open and freeze my niece and nephew to death."

"Benedict and Beatrice?" she quipped.

"Oh, is it Shakespeare this week?" She kept renaming the twins on a regular basis. Tom had no idea if she had chosen their regular names yet, or if she was still trying out some to see how they sounded. It had been the great romantic couples of the movies the last time he'd seen her. He'd heard her call them Scarlett and Rhett for a whole evening.

"I thought Romeo and Juliet might be a tad incestuous," she kept on.

"Instead, you're choosing a pair that squabbles incessantly," he said, amused. "Go on, we'll be here for a while."

"But I wanted to help..."

"Go." He nudged her along. Bobbie gave him a thankful look and took his wife by her hand.

"See you in a bit."

Tom looked after them, a bit jealous that they could just hold hands freely in public, then turned around to Chris. "Shall we get to it?"

  
  


He was instantly glad that he'd come along. Chris knew what he needed, but being here and doing this visibly took its toll. More even than talking to Elsa today, it made it so real that his old life was over, that he was buying furniture that would not be slept in or occupied for most of the time; that India would not be in their home and by their sides every day, as she had been with Chris since she was born. 

Evie and Bobbie eventually came back, Evie having chosen a spectacular new coat which she modeled for Tom – and then kissed his cheek for in thanks – and they, too, picked up on the mood.

When Chris stood in front of a selection of cots, unable to make a choice, his expression growing more desperate by the minute, Evie walked over to him and just hugged him. He let her, hiding his face in the crook of her neck as he bent over to hug her in return, and Tom moved in to rub the small of Chris' back in comfort. He was proud of his family, proud of how compassionate his little sister was, how uncomplicated Bobbie. He exchanged a look with his brother-in-law, who mouthed: "Shit." in his direction, and nodded.

Bobbie asked the clerk to leave them for a moment.

Evie found a bench to sit them down on. She rubbed Chris' thigh and leaned into him. "Chris, it's going to be fine. I'm sure India will love all her new things... and her new toys and all of that. She's going to be so spoiled when you guys try to outdo each other. It'll be fine." Chris took her hand and held on to it, listening intently to what she was saying. Tom found himself not jealous at all, just glad and thankful that Evie was able to reach him.

He looked at Bobbie, who had taken a perch on a brightly colored trunk opposite them, and saw that his eyes were glistening, too. Apparently, Evie wasn't the only one suffering from pregnancy hormones.

"Well, this just blows," Bobbie said, and wiped at his nose. "Where do you want to put all that stuff?"

"Upstairs, in my guest room," Tom said.

"That's going to be impossible to fit in with your guest bed and desk and all that in there," Bobbie said. He was a trained carpenter, and now worked as a set designer. He knew his stuff. "You'll need at least a cot and a changing table or a dresser with a fit. And some sort of rocking chair or the like if they don't go to sleep. Don't know how you'll fit all of that up in that tight space."

"We'll move the guest bed to the attic for now," Tom said. "It'll fit."

"Well, where's Chris gonna sleep?" Bobbie asked and laughed. "In the crib?"

_Shit._

For a moment, everything was really quiet. Bobbie expected a light-hearted quip back, but Tom had none. Time had come to a stand still, and the pit of Tom's stomach felt like it might crash through the floor any time now. This was not how this was supposed to go. He was not ready to come out to his family. There was no delicate way to introduce them to the idea now, no trying to figure out how they might feel about it while talking to them. He'd busted it. Bobbie had tried to defuse the situation and he had ridden himself right into the next quandary and he had no idea what to do.

Running away came to mind. Just get up and leave and find a quiet corner and assemble his wits, think of something good to say.

He thought of: "Oh, you're right, didn't think of that." but it didn't pass his lips. He could not, _could not_ , pretend he wasn't together with Chris. He was not ashamed of Chris. He was terrified of his family, and what outing himself might do. Those were two completely different things.

He found himself turning his head, and looking at Chris.

"What'd I say?" Bobbie asked. "Did I say something wrong?"

Why, oh why had it all started with the bed? Why did it have to look like he was with Chris just for the sex? Why couldn't he claim kinship and love and devotion and fate? No. It had to be the bed. And Chris... Chris was not the Chris who had given him leave to decide how public to be on Thursday. He wasn't in a good place right now, and for Tom to lie about them at this moment was unthinkable.

"I'm the reason they're splitting up," he heard himself say. "Chris doesn't need an extra bed because he's sleeping... with me." It was the worst coming out of the century. This was worse than any scenario Tom had dreaded up so far. Far, far worse.

You could have heard a pin drop. 

On the other side of Chris, Evie snatched her hand away and moved away from Chris in shock.

"You're... _you_ are breaking them up?" she asked. "You are why all of this is happening?"

"No no no no," Chris raised a hand. "No. Tom's not doing anything that I don't want, too."

"You... you are..." Evie grabbed for the armrest behind her and pushed herself to a standing position. "Tom, how could you? _How could you?_ "

Bobbie got up to be by her side. "Evie, calm down," he said. "We don't know the whole story."

"I don't need the whole story," Evie panted, her face white. " _He knows better._ And Chris, how... how dare you? How dare you have me think you are to pity and then.. and then _that_?"

Chris appeared as shell-shocked by that reaction as Tom.

"We're leaving," Evie declared.

"Evie, now don't be that way," Tom finally broke through his mortification. "Please sit down, listen."

"I don't need to listen to this," Evie said heatedly. "We were raised better than that, Tom, than to become cheaters and home wreckers. We've been raised to know wrong from right. I cannot believe you! I cannot believe this! How could you? _How could you_?"

In the face of her outrage, he simply could not talk about love, and fate, and how happy Chris made him. In the face of her words, there was only shame and humiliation. Years of indoctrination crashed over him like a wave, and he could not remember in that moment why and how she could be wrong, and what they were doing could be right. But it was _his family_ , his turn to say something.

"I love Chris," he finally said, the words having to be forced past the strangling that was her accusations. "He... he loves me. We want to be together. That's all. I don't have a better explanation than that."

"Well, it's not good enough," she said. "I'm ashamed of you. I'm ashamed that you are my brother."

He let out a humorless breath. "Okay," he said, defeated. "Fine. Feel ashamed. I'm not." He was shaking inside, but he straightened. "I thought you would understand," he said. "I thought _you_ would. But okay. I'm not ashamed of Chris. I'm not ashamed of being with him. This is the best thing that's happened to me in my whole life. And if you..." He heard his voice rise, and checked it willfully. "And if that isn't good enough for you, then I can't help you."

He held her eyes, faced the fury, how appalled she was. It was a bit like an out-of-body-experience, seeing all that had kept him from moving forward to have his heart's desire embodied in her at that moment. He could finally see it for what it was. A separate part of himself, not something that _was_ him. Not some universal truth. He looked at Chris. He looked back at Evie.

"I'm with Chris now," Tom said, and took his hand. "This is what it is. I'm still the same brother, still the same man. But I choose him. I don't want to lose you, you're my sister, for crying out loud, Evie! Think of all the things we've gone through. You're precious to me. Please don't just throw that away!"

"I don't know you any more," she breathed, sounding disgusted. "Keep the coat."

And she walked out.

Bobbie gave them an apologetic smile. "I don't mind," he said. "Really, I don't. But I've got to go after her or she'll injure herself."

"Yes, of course." Tom exhaled. "By all means, take care of her."

A moment later, they were alone.  
  


  
  



	16. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their coming out to Tom's family, Tom and Chris have very different ways of dealing with the crisis at hand.

Chris sat stunned. It had all happened too fast, words flying so quickly. Just a moment ago everything had been fine, Evie by his side, Bobby opposite, Tom... Tom.

He was still holding his hand, but it had gone limp. Tom sat beside him with an expression on his face that scared Chris like nothing had scared him before. It was... empty.

Chris was on his knees in front of him so fast he couldn't remember later when or even if he had made the decision. He grabbed both of his hands. "Don't go away," he implored him. This was oddly reminiscent of what had happened up in the cottage, but a lot scarier. "Tom. Talk to me."

When there was no immediate reaction, Chris called to the clerk. "Can we get some cold water here, please?" If Tom was pulled into something that had happened before, he hoped that outside stimuli would get him to respond.

"I knew it," Tom said under his breath.

"Good lord, I'm so thankful you're still in there," Chris breathed. He heard the clerk rummaging for a cold drink in the back. "Love." He kissed Tom's knuckles, knowing that no one was watching them. Why did this have to have happened in such a public place?

"You need to stop that," Tom said. "Someone could see." He pulled his hands away.

That hurt almost more than what had just happened. Just a moment later, Chris heard footsteps behind him.

"You asked for some cold water?" the clerk said, clearly not quite sure what was happening.

Hell, Chris was not quite sure what was happening, but he took the glass of water and offered it to Tom. "Here, have a drink."

"I'm fine." Tom took a deep breath.

"Please."

Tom gave him a look, but complied, then handed it back to Chris, who finished the glass off and gave it back to the clerk as he was coming back to his feet. "Thank you."

"Um... will you be needing any more help?" the clerk asked.

Chris was just about to say "No", because the last thing he was thinking about right now was shopping. He wanted to make sure Tom was all right, and he couldn't do that while they were still here, and under surveillance, so really, his priority was getting Tom into some space where they could be by themselves. But Tom surprised him once again.

"Yes," Tom said. He did give him a tender smile, but then looked at to the clerk and got to his feet. "We're here to buy furniture for a 6-month-old little girl who will most likely stay with us mainly on weekends," he said. "And we have absolutely nothing at home, and limited space, so please... show us everything we might need."

"Ah, I didn't know you might need a complete set," the clerk said. "In that case, can I show you our collection over here?"

"That sounds like a good idea." Tom gave him a look. Chris could see his hand twitch, reaching for his own, but he realized in the last moment that this would not be appropriate. "What do you think?"

_I think I want to drag you out of here and shake you until you talk to me, strike that, break down in my arms and I can make it all better._ Chris almost growled with frustration. "Fine," he said, and it came out a little more gruffly than he had intended. He could see Tom's eyes widen with just the tiniest bit of surprise, but then his mask slipped back into place. He was too fine an actor. Chris hated that fact with a vengeance right about now. "Lead the way."

The next twenty minutes were sheer agony. Tom was attentive, asked intelligent questions, gave his opinion on the different pieces and then let Chris decide what he thought would be appropriate. This was not what Chris had had in mind. He'd wanted to do this _with_ Tom, break to him, gently, that he wanted him to play a larger role in his daughter's life. He'd wanted to surprise him, make this special. First Evie's insistence to come along had made it difficult, but this, this was just completely _impossible_.

After twenty minutes, the clerk left to get some color swatches for them, and Chris could just not take it any more. "Tom, just stop. Stop."

"Stop what?" He looked so fucking nonchalant, leaning back against a shoulder-high children's dresser, his legs crossed, hands folded in his lap, his look so fucking _cocky_. 

Chris had seen this look before, when he would watch Tom give interviews. It was a studied appearance, something to hide behind, a public persona that had little to do with the Tom he now knew, the Tom who had shared himself with him this past week.

Chris put his hands in his pockets and looked around. The clerk was still rummaging in a shelf behind a divider, but he was just a few steps away. It was too dangerous to step over and embrace Tom and truthfully, it just occurred to Chris, he would most likely not appreciate it. This public persona was probably all that held Tom together right now – destroying it here would make him incredibly vulnerable.

"Stop what, Chris?" Tom asked again, his voice so much softer now.

So you're still in there. Chris lifted his eyes. He spoke gently, but fast, so he could say everything he wanted to before they were under observation once again. "Tom, I know this was horrible but you're not alone, okay? You're not alone in this. If... when you need me, I'm here."

Finally, a useful way to apply all that psycho knowledge he had basically absorbed by osmosis at the dinner table at his family's, when his father and mother would talk about their work, and taught their sons compassion, understanding, and to never take anyone at face value, good or bad. But his father had never told him how much it hurt to see someone you loved so much suffer so greatly. Especially someone who was so used to dealing with their problems on their own. He knew he had to respect the way Tom chose to deal with it, at least for the time being, but to see the person who loved him so well, and whom he loved so dearly, just _disappear_ was simply breaking his heart.

"I hear you," Tom replied, low and hurried. "I just can't..."

Chris saw the clerk reappear. "Good. Tom... we'll talk later." He wanted to scream with frustration. He decided to change tactics, play along. Instead of trying to reach Tom – who had let him know that he was still reachable – he, too, pretended that everything was fine. Things were working inside Tom, he was sure, but maybe that appearance of everything being okay was helping Tom, too. To think that life would go on, and the things that matter were, too. Like them starting a life with India in it.

Chris relaxed a little, finding it easier to be in the moment. A few moments later, he felt that Tom relaxed, as well. Good. He'd done something right.

They finished choosing the furniture, mattress, changing mat, covers and blankets, and then moved on to other things. Since Tom's bathroom was fairly large, they decided to have a combined changing area and baby tub in there, as well. They chose a large, brightly colored carpet for India to play on in the living room area and while they were at it, picked a number of toys Chris knew she would enjoy.

Tom picked up a stuffed Velveteen Rabbit replica. "Do you think she would like that?"

It was impossibly soft and already looked well-loved. "I'm sure she would love it."

"Can I buy it for her?"

"Yes." Chris wanted to hug something, someone, preferably Tom. Right now.

They moved on to a few more utilitarian items: a high chair and some more things they needed for and in the kitchen, like a bottle warmer, bottles and nipples, a sterilizer, a warm water plate and little plastic spoons. Chris remembered to buy bibs and spit-up cloths. It was quite overwhelming how many little things a small child needed.

"Your kitchen will look like you just gave birth," Chris sighed.

Tom laughed. "Our kitchen," he corrected. "And no, we won't need a breast pump, thank you very much." Chris could see that his eyes were livelier now, and that he got genuinely excited about this big change in his life, and about welcoming India into his – their – home. "Chris -safety equipment? We still need to baby proof everything." 

They looked at what they might need for a six-month-old, but Chris knew they would likely have to be back soon when India was being more mobile and capable of climbing the stairs or opening cupboards and drawers. They decided on outlet and corner covers this time around. Tom thought out loud about possibly buying a different couch table since his had fairly sharp corners.

The sales clerk reminded them about safety in the car, so a car seat was the next thing they bought. And then Chris just let Tom go a little crazy in the children's book section, watching him choose what looked like a whole mountain of classic and not so classic children's literature.

Tom insisted on paying for the tub and high chair, play rug and toys by himself. Chris let him. When it came to paying for the furniture and assorted other items, he asked whether they could take any of the furniture with them to assemble, themselves.

It turned out that the cot and changing table were available in flat packs. The rocking chair and dresser had to be shipped in from a depot and would be brought by and erected the same evening.

They paid, and were helped to fit as much as possible in Tom's car, the rest to be brought by a few hours later. It started to go dark, and the air was cold, and they were eager to sit in the car.

"Let me drive?" Chris asked.

Tom hesitated for just a moment, and then handed the keys to Chris. "Might as well get used to it," he said. It was the first acknowledgment he gave that he may need support. Chris was glad about it.

Once they sat and Chris had turned on the car and the heat and adjusted the seat – marginally – and set the satnav, he paused, and then reached behind his seat into his coat, pulling out a wrapped present.

"I've wanted to make this a bit more special," he said. "But... things kinda happened."

"Yeah."

"Still... thanks for coming along and making this a... more fun experience than it could have been, Tom." He handed over the present.

Tom gave him a quick look, excited about the gift. "You keep doing that," he said. "I never do."

"You're easy to get stuff for," Chris said. "I just like giving things to you." He nudged him. "Open it."

Tom's fingers flew under the wrapping and ripped it open. It was a book. Tom turned it over and read the title out loud. " _The Baby Owner's Manual: Operating Instructions, Trouble-Shooting Tips & Advice on First-Year Maintenance_."

"I thought it might come in handy," Chris said. "In case I'm ever not around when you have her. I know you like to prepare, so..."

But by then, Tom was already hugging him enthusiastically. "That is so sweet," he said.

"Well, eh..." Chris laughed a bit. "There are nicer books, but most of them deal with pregnancy and birth, as well... not really what you need."

"This is brilliant." Chris could already tell that Tom would be done reading it cover to cover by tomorrow night, latest.

"I really..." Chris stalled; he didn't know whether what he would say now was welcome today or if it was just a tad too much. "I guess I should ask you if that is what you want, but... please would you help me take care of my... of India when she's with us? I would really appreciate it."

Tom's eyes swam in tears. "I don't know what to say."

"I know you didn't ask for it, and I'm kind of imposing, but... Tom, you do have a family, regardless of what happened this afternoon. I'm your family, and India, and you know my Mum and Dad adore you. And we'll make this work. I know I shouldn't promise, but I promise you we will make this work, okay? Maybe that close-minded sister of yours will take years to come around, but you... you kind of... well, became India's other dad today, so... congratulations. And thank you. For calling Elsa and talking to her. For making it possible that India is coming to live with us, if only a few days at a time. For being so generous and kind and wonderful and just taking us in and caring for us so well. Because it's not a matter of course. It's you being the best man, the best human being I know." He took Tom's hand in his own, turned it over, and stroked his palm. "And I love you."

"Come here." Tom pulled him into a hug, his long arms sliding around his neck and shoulders. "I love you, too. And of course I'm taking the two of you in. I mean who wouldn't?"

"About everyone else." Chris burrowed his face against Tom's neck. "Thank you." He placed a small kiss on the soft skin, then pressed his face against it again.

In the warm circle of this car, in the warm circle of Tom's arms, Chris realized that he, too, was cutting ties, cutting away from the shore he'd been tied to for so long. And how lucky he was to keep getting caught in the same current with this man, to know that however bad the weather, _this_ would not change.

"It's pretty scary, isn't it?" He whispered.

He felt a sigh go through Tom's body. "Yes."

Chris cupped his face and looked deeply into his eyes. "You will be okay. I promise. You will be okay."

Tom kissed him, his tears seasoning his lips with salt.

  
  


* * *

  
  


They were no five minutes on the road when Tom's phone rang. It was his mother. Tom took the call, but kept it private, not divulging to Chris what she was saying. Still, he could surmise enough from the tone of her voice and the answers Tom gave in return. Apparently, Evie had lost no time in informing everyone of what she had discovered.

"Hi Mum," Tom answered the phone. "Yes... we're in the car, mum, sorry if you can't quite hear me. Yes, back from the store. We bought things for India. Oh. Has she." Tom paused, listening. "Yes, that's true." He exchanged a desperate look with Chris. "Mum, no. It just happened." His brow contracted. "Of course it's not an excuse but it's the plain truth. I'm not doing this to make you upset. To be honest, this has little to do with anyone but me and Chris!" He sounded exasperated. "How do I... mum, we're in the twenty-first century, does that really make a difference?" His eyebrows shot up. "No, I'm not. Chris is the love of my life and that's it. What else can I say?" Chris heard Donna's voice get decidedly more upset. "Mum, no, you leave god out of it." He cradled his forehead in his hand. "No, you may not talk to Chris, he's driving; I'd like to arrive home safely."

Chris set up to say he didn't mind, but Tom's rapidly appearing forefinger stopped him. He shrugged and kept driving.

"Yes, Fiona and Rick know. Since last Friday. Yes, we knew when I got the keys. Mum, it was all so fresh, what was I supposed to say? Oh my god, I can't believe you just asked that." He shook his head. "I'm not going to grace that question with an answer, mum!" He was quiet for a time while Donna's voice was clearly audible, rapidly saying some rather upset things to him. Tom just let her rant. Because the road was easy to navigate, Chris reached over and meshed his fingers with Tom's, just to let him know that he was there and supporting him. At last, Donna seemed to be done talking, and when Tom didn't immediately answer, she seemed to ask him to respond, rather upset.

"Mum..." Tom sighed. "I get it that you're disappointed, but this is how it's going to be. I've finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with, and that's Chris."

Chris shouldn't feel so bolstered by hearing that, not in this context, but he found his chest swelling and a certain pride made him sit up straighter.

"And to be honest, if I hadn't been so worried about... about being gay, we would've been together a long time ago." Donna yelled something at him. "Yes, gay, mum. GAY." He seemed to have developed a morbid fascination with the word. He laughed at something she said. "Yes, Chris has a daughter, but now he's with me. No, I'm not holding him back, he's a grown man and has his own free will! Jesus!"

This time, Chris made sure Tom allowed him to speak. "Mrs Hiddleston?" he said.

"Christopher Hemsworth, aren't you ashamed of what you've done?" he heard her say clearly.

"I love Tom," Chris said. "You should be proud of him, he's the best man I have ever known."

"You are both behaving like irresponsible, spoiled children, like nothing matters but your own, selfish, unnatural desires," she chided. "Not thinking of your families, and how it's going to reflect on them, not thinking of your careers. Leaving your wife and child! What are you thinking!"

"I'm thinking I should have seen the light earlier, so I wouldn't have involved innocent people who are now caught in the middle," Chris said truthfully. "I'm not proud of..."

"You made a vow to your wife. You can't just decide to go back on it," Donna said resolutely. Chris had never heard her so decisive or upset.

"Mrs Hiddleston, with all due respect, but they are my responsibility. Please let me deal with my family the way I see fit," he said. "I should have been with Tom a long time ago. The only thing I regret is that it took me so long to see it."

"If this is the kind of man you decide to be, you are not welcome in my house any more."

"I'm sorry to hear it." He really was. "But I understand why you're upset."

Tom took back the phone. "Mum, if Chris is not allowed in your house, I'm not coming to visit, either."

"Tom, you need to come to your senses! What will the relatives think? You need to be here!"

"You can tell the relatives I'm with the best man in the world now and if they can't live with it, well then. So be it. I'm finally waking up and I'm becoming the person I was always meant to be and I'm not going back! I'm not going to pretend that the person I love most in the world doesn't exist!"

"What about us? What about your family? You'd just abandon us like that? We need you, too!"

"Mum..." He could see that Tom really wanted to scream, he was horribly frustrated. "I'm not abandoning you. I'm still the same son, the same man. _You_ are abandoning _me_."

"You straighten out your life! You give up this deviant life style! You..."

And Tom turned off his phone.

He seemed to be as surprised about doing it as Chris was, then closed his eyes warily and let the phone sink to his knees. It rang again not a moment later.

"Yes?" It had returned to private talking, so Chris was not prone to what Donna was saying, but it sounded horribly upset.

"Mum... mum... mum, no. Either you speak to me in a decent tone or I'm hanging up." More screaming. "Okay then, that's it. Bye." And Tom turned the phone off again. It started ringing once more a few moments later, but Tom did not pick up. After ten rings, it stopped.

The silence in the car was deafening. Tom was shaking. Chris couldn't do anything about it because he was navigating the car through some tricky traffic until they finally turned into the residential area that Tom lived in. A few moments later, they were parked in Tom's driveway.

Chris turned off the car and they sat in silence for a moment.

"What can I do to help?" Chris finally asked.

"Just don't go away."

Chris gave a breathy laugh. "Never."

Tom looked at him, exhaustion and emotional pain written on his features. "Let's get India's things inside and then see what the rest of the day brings."

"Do you think the rest of your family will also call?"

"I'm willing to bet a lot of money on it," Tom said.

"You could just turn off the phone, take a break," Chris suggested, but Tom shook his head.

"Chris, I'd rather have it over with in one fell swoop. I don't want to have to handle this over and over and over again. I don't think I could."

"Tom, I'm here." Chris put a hand on Tom's knee. "You are not alone."

  
  


* * *

  
  


They carried all packages and things into the stairwell, except for the car seat, which Chris mounted right away, under Tom's careful surveillance in case he had to do it, himself. Tom parked the car in the garage while Chris started carrying the really heavy pieces up to the loft, turning it into a workout. It felt good to be physical, get all the emotion out through the exercise. Tom also calmed down a bit, concentrating on the work. Within twenty minutes, everything was up in the flat, crowding the living room.

"Coke?" Chris asked. "And we completely forgot about dinner, dammit!"

"Order pizza," Tom said. "I'm in the mood. Make it fat and salty." He disappeared in the kitchen.

Chris placed a quick order to their favorite pizza place, also ordering some salad and ice-cream sundaes. It would be a long evening between Tom's family and building furniture. Might as well load up on the calories. Chris looked around and then made a quick dash to the guest bathroom, not wanting to be overheard by Tom when he dialed his mother's number. It was too early; they were still asleep, but he could not wait.

"Mom, Dad," he whispered hurriedly. "It's Chris. Listen, I wouldn't call if it wasn't so urgent, but Tom's family has figured out we're together and they're absolutely horrible. Not to me – well, that, too – but they're absolutely horrible to Tom, and... he's trying to put on a brave face, and I'm helping where I can, but if you could call him sometime this morning... he needs to hear from someone that … that they love him like he is." He felt tears come up. "It's really horrible. The things they say to him... and they're calling one by one, so this is going to carry on the rest of the night. Please... call. It would mean so much. Please." He had to take a few deep breaths after hanging up, realizing suddenly how much this affected him, as well.

_And who is taking care of you?_ came to mind again, the question his mother had asked him earlier that week. She had actually turned out supporting Elsa's idea of going into counseling together, which had surprised him. She had pointed out that it might be easier for Elsa to hear what he had to say in a controlled environment, and it might help him come to terms with what he'd done, as well. 

He was fairly sure his parents would also call him, to hear how he was doing. At the same time, there were only such few people who actually knew about this. It was meant to protect them, but right now, it meant so little support in a really hard to deal with situation.

He dialed Luke's number.

Luke picked up after three rings, and Chris described quickly what had happened. "Can you give him a call, please?"

There was stunned silence at the other end. Then he heard Steve's voice in the background, and Luke related what was happening. Next thing he knew, he had Steve on the phone. "We can be there in about 45 minutes," he said. "Should we bring anything?"

"We're... we're building India's furniture," Chris said. "If you want to help, bring tools, dress casually. And I just ordered pizza. Do you guys want any?" He had no idea, they always seemed so elegant and cultured.

"Order double, we're bringing the wine," Steve said resolutely.

Chris was immeasurably relieved. "Great. Thank you so much."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom was on the sofa when he came back, looking exhausted and desolate, his bottle of Coke cradled in his lap.

"Hey." Chris sat by his side and slid his arm around his shoulders. He was very relieved when Tom reacted and snuggled into his embrace, one leg thrown over Chris's. Chris kissed his hair. "I've got to admit something," he said.

"Hm?" Tom put his bottle away and curled his arm around Chris' middle, his head against Chris' shoulder.

"I just called Luke, to give you a call... and he and Steve offered to come over, and I said yes."

"Come over?" Tom looked up, searching his face. "Why?"

"Moral support."

"For this?"

"Yeah."

" _Why?_ "

"Because they're your friends and they want to help," Chris said. He drew up Tom's second leg as well and wrapped the whole man in a tight, secure hug. Tom didn't object, hiding his face against Chris' neck until he finally sighed, and everything relaxed a little. "Hey. Is that okay?" Chris asked, nudging him gently.

Tom shrugged. "I'm... I don't know. It seems so intensely... personal. I... I don't... I don't usually bother people with stuff like this."

"Hey. I _want_ to be bothered," Chris said. "Okay?"

"I know. It's just... you're really the exception."

"Well, if you want to be alone, just walk off. I'm sure they'll understand."

Tom studied him quietly for a moment. "But you need them?" His thumb brushed over Chris' bottom lip.

Chris was stunned. He blinked, not really knowing what to say.

"It's okay," Tom said, snuggling against his shoulder again. "Everyone is nasty to you, too, and I'm not much use right now. It's just _so much_."

"I know." He almost regretted calling them now. Just sitting here with Tom, being quiet for a while, seemed everything they needed, just each other. Just Tom's breath against his neck, and his hand sliding across his stomach, and the way Tom smelled, and how he felt against his body. Chris turned his head and kissed him, his eyes closing. 

A small whimper escaped him when their lips met.He needed this, needed to go to that point where nothing else existed. They kissed slowly, haltingly, sometimes just breathing into each other, so tender, so profound.

"Is it worth all that?" Tom asked finally, his voice very small. "For you, I mean? All that anger, all that hatred directed at y..."

"Sh, yes." Chris kissed him again. "Yes and yes and yes and yes." He held him so close he was sure he was hurting Tom, but Tom didn't object. "Is it fair? No. And it's not fair to you, either. You haven't changed from last week to this, not towards them. You have done nothing to deserve this, Tom. Nothing."

"But I have changed," Tom objected quietly. "I'm not putting their needs before my own any more."

In that moment, the doorbell rang.


	17. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom gets a call by his big sister, with somewhat surprising results, and gets to find out how it feels to be an out couple with friends.

Sannah called just after the pizza arrived. They were both in the kitchen, Chris putting the pizza into the oven to keep warm, and Tom getting out the china for them and their guests.

Tom saw the caller ID and shivered. "I'm afraid," he simply said.

Chris stopped everything he was doing and came over, sitting him down on the bench by the table, pulling him into a hug. "You can always not pick up."

"What if I fall apart? What if I fall apart and we have guests?" The phone kept ringing.

"Pick up," Chris rumbled into his ear. "I'm here."

Tom pressed the button and raised the phone to his ear, half-expecting the doorbell to ring any minute. "Hello?"

"Tom?"

"Sannah?" She sounded as if she was crying. "Sannah, are you okay?"

"Evie just called me," Sannah said, her pleasant alto voice so familiar to Tom's ear. "Strike that, she called me half an hour ago and I had to think what to say."

Tom didn't know what to say, either. He pulled his feet up on the bench and settled against Chris' comforting bulk.

"Tom, is what Evie said true?"

"What did she say?"

"That you're together with Chris now."

"Yeah." He was still waiting for the explosion, but it didn't come.

Instead, Sannah sobbed, and then said: "Are you happy?"

"Yeah," he said softly, still not sure what was going on. "Sannah, what's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Just relieved. Relieved that something finally tripped you up." She gave a shaky laugh. "But you had to go the full length, huh? It had to be a married man. I hear mum's livid."

He had to laugh with her. "Yeah. Not really what I was aiming for. Just took me a while to catch on."

"How long have you known Chris?"

"Three years now." This conversation was absolutely not going the way he thought it would be going.

"And you onlynoticed now what a babe he is?" she asked teasingly. "Tom."

"Um, no." He had to laugh. "Just... couldn't allow myself to go there."

"And now you have?"

"And now I have. It was that or eternal misery." He had to think back to what he had told Elsa that afternoon, the dark truth that he had so far not really admitted to himself. And he could not say it here, right now, with Chris behind him, because Chris would worry too much about him, he would not take it well. But a part of Tom wanted to share it with someone who would understand, someone who knew him so well that she would just love him and understand and cry with him and celebrate that it had not come that far.

"Oh Tom I'm so glad," it burst out of her. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear that."

"Why?" He felt as if he was crawling through the phone, desperate to connect with the sister he had considered lost.

"Listen... listen, you need to talk to Dad," she said. "And if you want to call me after, call me, okay?"

"He hasn't called yet," Tom said. "Don't know what's taking him so long."

"When I just talked to Evie, she said she couldn't reach him, so this is your chance to talk to him first." She hesitated. "Tom, it's important, you need to talk to him and... and I just want you to know that I fought this tooth and nail."

"Fought what?"

"He needs to tell you. He will tell you the moment you're coming out to him, I guarantee it. I swear it. Tom... Tom, I was too young to actually do anything, but Dad and I had a horrid falling out after and I... I never quite talked to him again."

"I know you had a fight, but... it was over me?" He'd been boarded out at the time, just knew that Sannah refused to visit their Dad when it was her time, and then got the hell out of Dodge the minute she could.

"It was a lot of things, yes, but this was one of it. I couldn't protect you and it haunts me to this day."

"Sannah..." He was at a loss. "Tell me what was going on?"

"No. You wouldn't believe me and I don't want you to hate me even more."

"Hate you? What?" He exchanged a look with Chris. "What do you mean, hate you? You're my sister!"

"Yeah, well, we haven't agreed on anything in the past fifteen years now, have we?" she said.

"I... I thought you were upset with me," Tom said, completely at a loss now. "That's why we didn't talk."

"I missed you," she said. "And I'm really so sorry things were so bad between us for so long."

"But why were they?" he asked. "I don't get it."

"You need to talk to Dad first," she reiterated. "I don't want to risk getting into the same old arguments with you. I couldn't stand that. Not again. Dammit, we... you were my favorite brother."

"I'm your only brother," he pointed out automatically. But he knew what she meant, they had been exceptionally close as children, sharing a room as late as Sannah turning ten, when their father had sternly decided it was inappropriate and separated them, causing many tears on both sides. They'd always been whispering and giggling, dreaming under the stars, making up stories and plays, painting a future for themselves in vivid colors. After their parents' divorce, she had drifted away, and he had become close to Evie, whom he had taken under his wing.

"And I promise you I fought tooth and nail for you, always," she said. "Talk to Dad. Call me after. And congratulations. On coming out, and… and being with Chris. Hitting the jackpot on your first try, little brother" He could hear that her voice choked up again. "I'm so happy for you."

"Sannah..."

"I'll talk to you later, okay? Promise you'll call when you talked to Dad. It doesn't matter how late it is."

"I... I promise. I'll talk to you later. Promise."

"Okay. Bye."

He said his goodbyes and heard her hang up, and just sat there, staring at the phone. This was not what he had expected, to have a chance of winning something back that he had considered long lost... something he had managed to forget he missed and wanted back.

"That was the strangest call I've ever had," he said, more to himself than anyone else.

"I didn't hear any yelling, was she okay?"

"Yeah, she..." He smiled and a he felt a rush of warmth. "She said congratulations on coming out and... and that I had great taste." He raised an eyebrow at Chris.

"I think I really like your big sister," Chris smiled.

"She called you a babe." They both chuckled.

The doorbell rang. Chris just looked at him. "Tom, do you want me to send them away again? I'm sure they'd understand."

"Someone needs to build that furniture," Tom said.

"Like you and me," Chris insisted. "India's two dads."

It made Tom smile. "And her gay uncles," he said, running his fingertips teasingly down Chris' sides. The doorbell rang again, but Tom had to kiss him first, allowing the kiss to get heated, allowing himself to feel the passion he had for this man.

"Awkward," Chris sighed. "Opening the door with a half-boner."

Tom chuckled. "I'll do it," he volunteered. "I'll do you later." 

He escaped Chris' swat with a squeal.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was fairly awkward at first.

It was as if Luke and Steve knew that Tom would have never called them in the first place, not about something so incredibly private. He felt embarrassed that they knew he was in such a weak position, where he would normally be very careful to protect his vulnerability, hide it under a sociable, outgoing decoy. He had only just admitted to himself that he had these feelings a week ago, and being in a room with two people who probably knew exactly how that felt was horribly revealing. He felt like he was stripped naked in front of them and couldn't do anything about it.

And as much as he liked Luke as a business associate and did call him a friend, they weren't really that close. They didn't sit down to talk late at night, they didn't go out together, they didn't get drunk together. Tom would usually beprofessional and personable when dealing with Luke. Right now, he was a vulnerable mess. He felt terribly uncomfortable with the situation.

And still, they were the people that Chris had reached out to. Tom trusted Chris' people instincts, he trusted Chris' ability to find the people that would help Chris deal with this. He thought it was terribly awkward, but he looked to Chris to see what he would do with it.

The first thing Chris did was establish that they were together. He kept Tom close and kept touching him casually, at the small of his back, his shoulder, steered him somewhere by his elbow, kept smiling at him.

They'd been out together that Thursday, but it had been in a room full of strangers, and this was different. Tom was torn between being afraid to look gay in front of them, and then again, were they gay enough? Would what they had hold up to the more experienced couple? Or would they completely embarrass themselves? It was all terribly confusing.

Chris decided they should eat out in the living room because it was more comfortable. Tom didn't have any objections. Luke and Steve helped take the china and utensils to the other room, then Steve opened the first bottle of wine and filled everyone's glasses. Chris had cut the pizzas and set them, and the salad, out on the table.

"Not very sophisticated," Tom said. "I'm sorry."

Steve laughed. "I don't think tonight is about sophistication," he said. "Cheers."

They clinked glasses. After the first glass, Luke slid off the recliner to sit on the floor, his long legs under the table, casually leaning against Steve's leg. Steve was relating an anecdote, and when he was done, he took a sip of his wine and his right hand came to rest on Luke's shoulder. They exchanged a fond look.

Tom smiled. It looked nice and comfortable and not spectacular at all. He filled his glass again and allowed himself to leaninto the arm that Chris had draped along the back of the sofa. He was a little startled when Chris immediately reacted, settling his hand against his neck, his thumb brushing affectionately over his short hair. It felt like his whole body was a magnifying glass and each action that had to do with Chris was being magnified for Steve and Luke to see. Tom blushed horribly, but when his eyes crossed with Luke's, Luke smiled at him. Apparently this public display of affection found his approval. Tom took another deep gulp of wine and tried to concentrate on what Steve was saying.

When they'd had their fill, Tom hurried to volunteer to clear the table. Unfortunately for him, Luke offered to help. When they were alone in the kitchen, Luke handing him the plates to put in the dishwasher, and Tom finally closed the door on it, Luke simply stepped closer and enveloped him in a hug.

Tom was startled. So startled that he at first didn't do anything, but then gradually reciprocated.

"I'm really sorry this is going so badly," Luke said. "I take it this wasn't planned?"

They sat down by the table and Tom spilled the whole story. How silly he felt for tripping up. What Evie had said. How hard Chris was trying to make him feel better, while he just felt as if he was completely frozen inside, unable to respond, but trying so hard because this was so important to Chris. The ride home in the car and what his mother had said. "She started attacking Chris, I just couldn't deal with it any more," he said. "I've never hung up on my mum in my life. She was relentless. I can kind of understand where she's coming from, but I can't have her lash out at Chris. I'm not letting her call him names or insult him. That's a complete no-go. He's got enough on his plate without my family taking out their temper on him."

"Like they don't get that attacking the person you're doing all this for is a sure way to make you hate them," Luke said. "Oh the things I had to hear about Steve." He rolled his eyes. " _He's too old for you!_ _Yo_ _u're just a distraction for him!_ _Y_ adda yadda yadda _._ "

Tom laughed. "My family's main complaint is that Chris is married."

"Not that he's a man?"

Tom sat back to think. "My mum said some really hurtful things," he recalled. "Stuff I really don't want to repeat, to be honest. But it sounded like she was reprimanding two unruly children to behave, and I think she just... it just got out of hand." He pressed his lips together. "I hope."

"Do you think they're going to the press with that? I'm sorry, you know I have to ask."

"No." That answer was easy. "That would be embarrassing, and it's just not done. You protect your family in the eyes of everyone else. You don't want to lose face. I think they're more afraid that I would go public with this. I guess that's why they're so upset with me. I'm breaking that code. I'm just walking away and it looks like I don't care about the consequences for the rest of them."

"Everyone who knows you knows you care deeply about your family," Luke said. "To think that's not the case is just stupid."

Tom gave him a doubtful look. "I would have agreed one hundred percent until last week when I was suddenly struck by lightning and saw the truth," he said.

"Struck by lightning, how apt." Luke was amused.

"What? Oh. Thor." Tom laughed. "Eh, yeah." He felt himself blushing but was amused about his choice of words. "What I'm trying to say is, this..." He took a deep breath. "No, he. Chris. Chris completely upsets all my priorities. Again the wrong word." He took another moment to think. "He realigns all my priorities. I didn't have a focal point before. Now I have one. I want this to work, and that is my main priority now." He rubbed at an old burn mark on his table. "And everyone else can go to hell."

Chris chose that moment to stick his head through the door. "I hate to interrupt, but we're dying for coffee and ice cream," he said.

"Oh, speak of the devil," Luke said. "We were just talking about you."

"Really." Chris laughed and strolled into the kitchen. "Funny, Steve was just talking about you."

Luke rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. "I can't leave him alone for a minute."

Tom watched the exchange with fascination. How easy it was for Chris to make people relax and let their guard down. "Do you need help with that?" he asked.

Chris turned around at the coffee machine. "Hm? No. Don't want to interrupt your kaffeeklatch."

Tom found one of India's new plastic spoons nearby and threw them at Chris.

"Hey!"

"Don't be so cocky." He saw Chris' eyes light up with mischief and immediately regretted his choice of words. "Oh nononono, no horrible puns, Chris... noooo!"

But Chris had stepped over to the wash basin and turned on the water. Holding the faucet closed with his finger, he managed to spray it all the way at Tom. Luke jumped up and away, and Tom battled his way over to where Chris stood, getting soaked thoroughly by a much-too-amused Chris, and then tackling him to the ground. Just as he was sitting on top of him, trying to rub his now wet cardigan in Chris' face, Steve appeared in the doorway.

"What's all that ruckus about?" he asked, eager to be amused.

"Young love," Luke said wistfully. "Isn't it a beautiful thing?"

  
  


* * *

  
  


They finished coffee and ice cream in the kitchen, the atmosphere now a lot lighter. Tom dared to show his affection more, openly smiling at Chris with what he knew was his goofy "I'm so in love with you" smile, and keeping body contact as they sat on the bench together, going so far as to leave his hand on Chris' thigh. He was so thankful that Luke and Steve let him find his own pace, didn't make lewd remarks or teased him about being with Chris. It was just all too fresh yet, not yet tested and tried. He still needed to figure out how he wanted to be with Chris in public, and he was pathetically grateful that Chris kept finding ways for him to test the water that were safe and doable.

They cleared the table together, then Tom told Steve and Luke they'd be right with them. When they had left for the living room, he pressed Chris' back against the kitchen island and kissed him deeply, his brow contracted with feeling, with wanting to pass on just how grateful he was.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I have no words. Again."

And Chris just let his guard down, showed all his vulnerability, how truly worried he was about Tom, about the situation, how much it affected him. Tom couldn't do anything but hold him.

"I want this shit storm to be over," Chris said. "For both of us. It has to end sometime. I'm not ready to take everyone's, _everyone's_ shit over this. It needs to end."

"I'm _so_ sorry I slipped up, Chris. So sorry. _So_ sorry."

"It's not your fault. I don't blame you, okay? It's not your fault. If I wasn't married, this would all go a lot smoother, but I'm really tired of being damned for that one mistake. Yes, I did wrong. I know that. But I can't die over and over and over again for it."

Tom just held him, so immeasurably relieved that Chris would open up to him like this, that he felt safe enough to do it, that he considered him stable enough to burden him with himself. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Luke's head appear in the doorway, and he made a sign that they needed a moment more, Chris' forehead against his shoulder, his hands cramped against his hips.

Luke's eyes widened and he made a compassionate face, then disappeared again.

Tom knew that nothing he could do would really help, that this was the reality that they had chosen, that the time to step back to cause relief had not just long passed, it had never been there. Chris wanted him and needed him just the same way that he wanted and needed Chris, and the only regret they both had at this point was that they had not found each other so much sooner. There was no doubt any more, not on either side. They needed each other, and needed to be together. There was only forward now.

"It will get better," Tom said. "It will. One by one, step by step, it will get better."

"You may never get your family back."

"Then screw them," Tom said. "Screw them if they can't be bothered to understand how important you are to me. Screw them if they can't be bothered to at least try to understand me, to not want to see me happy. If the only way they can love and accept me is if I dance to their tune, they can go to hell, Chris."

Chris raised his head, his face in a halo of his long golden hair, hopeful and disheveled at the same time. "You can't say that."

"Yes, I can. Were they with me when I hurt and had doubts, when I was alone with this all these years? No. You are. You are the one person who loves me for me, warts and all."

"You have no warts," Chris corrected gently. "Just some very delectable moles." He dipped his head and kissed Tom, taking his time, reconnecting and reaffirming. "Can we just get this over with," Chris asked, "And start our life together? You, and me, and India?"

"Let me make one more call," Tom said. "There's only one person left and then I'm yours."  
  


  
  



	18. Things Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Chris take a short time out, and then Tom has to deal with his father. Some things come to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Suicide is mentioned, though not in great detail.

But Tom ran into just the same problem as Evie before him – he could not reach his father. After letting the phone go to answer phone twice, he left a message.

"Hi Dad, it's Tom. Listen, something's come up, and... could you please call me back as soon as you get this? And.. and I know Evie's been trying to call you. Since she's calling about the same thing, and the thing is about me, I would really appreciate it if you called me first. Thanks. Talk to you soon."

He turned off his phone and looked at Chris. "I'm sorry. It looks like it's going to take a little longer."

Chris still looked troubled. "What do you think he'll say?"

Tom shrugged. "I have no idea. I had my mom pegged a little too correctly, but Evie and Sannah were both surprises, so I don't really know what to expect." He let out a breath, then made a decision. "Hey." He stepped over and let his hands run up Chris’ front, then gently tugged at his lapels.

"Huh?" Chris perked up a little. "Where's this going?" He gave Tom an expectant smile.

"Over here. Where Luke can't immediately see us when he comes to check up whether we're still alive or not." Tom dragged him playfully over to the wall behind the table. "Come here." He pulled him closer and kissed him, pressing Chris against the wall, his hands on either side of his face, holding him in place with his body alone.

Apparently, Chris needed this as much as he did. His hands settled on his sides, holding him close, and the kisses went from soulful to heated very fast. Chris' hands slipped to his ass, where he held him tightly against his body, and began moving his pelvis against Tom’s.

Tom was surprised to find that he had no objections at all. As uptight as he had been since their guests arrived, as much did he need this now, needed to surround Chris with love and desire, remind both of them just why they did this. He moaned softly, just loud enough for Chris to hear, and let his cock ride against Chris’, drinking in his response, the flaring nostrils, the way his pupils widened and his breath caught.

"You would not believe how much I want you right now," Tom whispered.

"Oh yeah?" Chris raised a brow at him, a good brow.

"Chris, I love you," Tom said, rolling his hips against his lover. "I want you to know that you're worth all that, and much more, okay?"

The smile that came up on Chris' face was like watching the sun rise.

"Oh yeah? You're not too bad, either," Chris murmured, and then groaned. "And if we keep doing this I'm so coming in my pants." He laughed softly. "You really are one hot piece of ass."

Tom chuckled. It was good to remember that there was more to this than just feeling awkward or afraid. He shifted a little so his cock rubbed against Chris'. "Really?" he dared. He pressed forward, moving wantonly against his lover.

Chris closed his eyes and bit his lower lip in response. "And if we keep doing this, will _you_ come in your pants?" he whispered hoarsely in his ear.

Tom just kept rubbing against Chris, not sure how to stop, not sure how to go on, just that he needed this, needed Chris, needed to feel him, and needed to feel like this, powerful and wanted and as if he was in charge of _something_ in his life. The kitchen filled with their suppressed panting and silent moans and gasps as they fucked each other through their clothing, both desperate, needy, painfully longing to feel each other.

"Tom, I'm really, really close," Chris whimpered. "Really close... oh god." The grip on Tom's ass turned vice-like. "Fucking... Jesus... Christ..." And he did come, his hips stuttering into Tom, and he exhaled as he came, and Tom came, too, kept moving into Chris, his hips rolling forward until he was too sensitive to continue. His face pressed against Chris' neck, they held each other, swaying together as if they were dancing, an island of two in a very hostile world.

"You have no idea how much I love you," Tom exhaled. "No idea."

Chris released a surprised breath. It sounded joyful, as if Tom had said something he had not quite believed in yet.

Tom framed his face in his hands. "I would give up everything for you, okay? You need to know that. Everything." It was a little scary how much he meant it, but he did.

"I want to make proper love with you now," Chris said, his voice still high with elation. “Right now, Tom.”

"I want that, too, but you invited moral support and it would be very impolite to uninvite them just so I can ravish you," Tom whispered. "Even though I really want to." He kissed Chris again, relishing his arms around him, the feeling of his beard against his face, the way Chris felt so real, substantial, so alive.

"You just made me come, how can I want you again so much?"

Tom smiled. "Always coming back for more, huh?"

"Yeah." Chris ducked his head, smiling. "Never enough."

"Good." Tom kissed him again. It felt so good that they were reconnecting at this level, that whatever animosity was thrown their way, all it did was forge them together even tighter. "I love you so much."

They stayed like this for a while longer, hugging each other tightly, swaying to a music only they could hear. Tom felt his nerves settle. Surrounded by Chris' taste, smell, touch, it felt as if nothing could shake him, nothing could hurt him. He was so lucky, he knew, to have found someone who was so steadfast in a storm. To be elated and faithful when things were good and love was new, that wasn't hard to do. But to stand by each other and actually try to ease each other's load instead of lashing out at the other person because they were conveniently nearby, that was rare, and precious, and to be cherished.

"Sweetheart," he finally said, looking at Chris, finding him about as undone as himself. "We'll get through this."

Chris nodded. "Yeah." There was a tentative smile on his face. "Yeah. I think we will."

 

* * *

 

They took turns slipping into the bedroom to clean up and change during the next half hour. Tom went last, not minding too much the somewhat squishy reminder of how much they loved each other. Wearing a thigh-length cardigan to hide the evidence helped, as well. He looked in the bathroom mirror as he cleaned himself up, and at the sight of the milky white spill on his own skin, his mind supplied him with a sudden, surprising image of his come on the inside of Chris' thighs, trickling down from where he so desperately wished to feel Tom, deep inside of him.

Tom moaned, bracing himself on the wash basin. His brain went with the spark, supplying him with a full-blown fantasy of himself sliding into Chris, their hands intertwined as he slowly undid his lover from the inside-out.

"Jesus, Chris." Tom felt himself going hard once more. He heard a thump from upstairs, where the other three were starting to empty the guest room to ready it for the furniture delivery. The guest bed had turned out to be too big to fit through the attic door, so they were taking it apart, but it went smoothly, both Luke and Steve game to get physical, rolling up their sleeves and getting into the fray.

It was turning out to be a good evening; what a surprising conclusion from such a horrid day. There was the reality of people he loved turning against him in shock and disappointment when he dared to come out of his hardened shell and showed his true self, and the other reality, just as sharply, of people simply accepting him for what he was, offering silent support in his time of need. As raw as he felt about all these changes, there was a part of him that sighed in relief. That part was now stepping out of the darkness, stretching, trying out its new form, delighted, scared, amazed in equal measures.

Apparently, wanting to take Chris deeply was yet another facet that just now showed itself.

Everything he had told Chris so far was true. He loved the fact that Chris told him what he wanted. He loved that Chris respected that this wasn't his fantasy, gave him berth to find what he liked, respected that there were certain ways Tom didn't want to be touched, or penetrated. It was still a bit of a foreign concept to him, but this image of slowly pressing into Chris, having Chris bite his lips and throw his head back, bearing down on his cock, taking him in until he was fully seated in Chris' body, was suddenly very, _very_ alive in his mind.

What a surprising thing a person's mind was. In the middle of a life-changing calamity, it would still work on everything else, processing information and impressions it had received much earlier in the day, mixing it with recent events, and come to this surprising conclusion.

"I want this," Tom said to his image in the mirror, still full of wonder and disbelief. "Chris, I want you that way. Let me make love to you like this." Again, his mind came up with a very vivid image of himself with Chris' legs over his shoulders, pressing into the other man.

He had to stand there for quite some time, the coolness of the ceramic under his hands, breathing deeply, letting the image settle. He would have to talk about this with Chris. He couldn't just _do_ it, there were certain preparations to be made. He doubted Chris had ever been penetrated anally. The vulnerability involved was taking Tom's breath away, and he wasn't even the one receiving. But there was something about the way they loved each other that made him want to take that last step, be connected with Chris in a way that would leave no room for anything or anyone else, just them. He wanted to fill out Chris, slake his thirst for his touch, make him his at least for a little while, mark him in a way that no one had marked Chris before.

Tom was shivering at the thought. There was something about the way Chris had shown his desperation and vulnerability in the kitchen earlier, so truthful, so open, so much looking to Tom to catch him, so full of trust. This Chris, he could love that way.

His mind kept returning to this one image in circles, as if he was spiraling around this one thought, hitting the same point over and over again. There was another loud thump from above, followed by someone swearing mightily. Tom smiled.

His lover. His friends.

He was safe.

 

* * *

 

Tom's father called just as the delivery of furniture arrived. They had cleared out the guest room, vacuumed it, and then carried the two flatpacks upstairs. There was quite a bit of commotion in the house when Tom's phone started to vibrate, and he simply slipped away quietly without drawing attention to himself.

He sat in the bedroom, on the comfortable chair by the window that he sometimes liked to read in.

"Hi dad," he said when he picked up the phone. "How are you?"

"Sorry it took me so long to call back," his father said. There were sounds in the background, of people speaking, and a car door clapping, and then it was quiet. "I'm at a conference in London this weekend; I just got out of the last panel. Dinner with associates later, or I would just drop by. You know how it is."

"I know." Tom picked at the lint on his jeans. He'd grown up on his father being away on business, of him not being available to tuck his children in at night for weeks on end. On the other hand, once Tom's career was taking off, once he needed lawyers, managers, a publicist, his father had been a steadfast advisor and he had learned to cherish his father's experience and cool-headedness.

"So what is going on? Your call sounded urgent and Evie seems to be beside herself."

"Did she tell you what's going on?" Tom asked, leaning his head in his hand.

"No. Just that she had news about you and that I wouldn't believe it. What's going on? Did you get someone pregnant in a closet and now she's suing you for alimony?"

"Ha ha, no." Tom actually had to smile. "Little chance of that happening now, dad, don't worry."

He could hear his father's smile in his voice. "Well that's a load off my mind. What's the trouble, son?"

"I fell in love with Chris Hemsworth," Tom said, and sighed. He was trying to be as level-headed as he could about the whole thing, but his heart was still thumping in his chest, and he could see that his hand shook a little. "He's leaving his wife to be with me, so... Evie was not impressed when she found out."

"Oh."

"Oh is about right."

"He is leaving his wife? Didn't they just have a child?"

"Yes, India's just six months old. It's a pretty mess."

"So this is mutual?"

"Very much so." It was astounding how business-like his own tone became when he was talking to his father.

"And how long has this been going on?"

"Just last week, really," Tom said. "But we're very serious about this... I guess it's been a long time coming, we just never had the courage to go there." He was glad his father was not yelling or judging, but he knew that James Hiddleston had a calculating mind. He liked to collect information before making a ruling, and until he was ready to draw a conclusion, he was usually not letting anyone know what was really going through his head. "We hadn't really planned on telling anyone yet. It was an accident that it slipped out today, or we would've tried to make it much less... spectacular. Trust me."

"This is going to throw quite a wrench into your career, son."

Tom shrugged. "Maybe. We'll see. He's worth it, though."

"So you're serious about this?"

"Very, very, _very_ much. We both are."

"Hm." He heard his father take a breath and slowly letting it out again. "I sincerely hoped I could have spared you this," he said. "I'm very sorry."

"Spared me what?" It was hard to keep his voice level.

"Having to live with that."

"Live with what?"

"Being... you know... a homosexual."

"Oh." It was a cryptic response at best. His father didn't sound surprised or taken aback, but the thought that he was actually _feeling sorry_ for Tom had a bit of a comical aspect, as well. "Why?" Tom asked. "Why are you sorry?"

It was fairly quiet on the other end of the phone for a while. "Maybe we should talk about this when we both have time and can talk in private," James said.

"No, by all means, please tell me why you should feel sorry for me falling in love with a man," Tom said, and he heard his tone turn sharper. "And how you would have spared me that."

His father took the tone, which told Tom a lot. It told him that he felt he deserved it, and that made it even worse.

"Let me call you back, Tom," James said. "We've just arrived at the hotel and I don't want to talk while I'm walking the lobby."

"Okay. But you will talk with me about this."

"Yes. Give me ten minutes to check in and I'll call you back," James said.

 

* * *

 

It took him twenty-five, and he rang the doorbell. Upstairs, the workmen were assembling India's furniture, the house was filled with sweaty men discussing the best placement of a six-month-old baby girl's cot, and music was playing in the living room. Worst of all, it was Chris who opened the door because he had gone downstairs to get something to drink from the kitchen, and he was the only one who heard the bell.

To say that James Hiddleston looked like he didn't belong would be a complete understatement. He was still in his business suit, attired in a fine wool overcoat, hat, shawl, and deerskin gloves, which he picked off finger by finger as he stepped inside.

"Chris." He shook his hand formally.

"Mr. Hiddleston." Chris wiped his hands on his jeans before he took the other man's hand. "I had no idea you were in London!"

"I just spoke to Tom on the phone, and then decided to come over. I didn't know there would be such a ruckus!"

"Yeah, well... I'm sure Tom told you I've moved in... and we're just now remodeling the guest room into a nursery for India," Chris said, sweating from being so nervous. "Tom?!" he yelled. "It's your dad!"

"So you intend to live with my son?" James asked, and Chris immediately felt under close scrutiny.

"Um, yes, as long as we're still filming _Thor_ , at least. Then we'll see how long I can stay in London before my next job."

"I take it I don't need to ask whether you intentions towards Tom are genuine," James asked.

"No, really, they are, Mr. Hiddleston." This was worse than meeting Elsa's parents for the first time, and he already knew Tom's father. "I hope no one leaves their wife and child light-heartedly. I know I don't."

"Hm."

Belatedly, Chris remembered that James had left his whole family for another woman. "No offense," he hurried to add.

James raised a brow at him. "None taken," he said. "Though it seems a strange thing to happen to someone like you."

"Oh? Fall in love with Tom?" Chris smiled. "I fell for him the first time I set eyes on him. Just took us a while to conjure up the courage to admit it."

James mustered him closely, but the answer seemed to satisfy him. "I suppose it can happen to all types," he mused.

"Falling in love? I hope so." Chris consciously chose not to engage in the underlying presumption that you had to "look gay" to fall in love with another man. "I don't know what takes him so long, I'm sorry. I can get him if you want? Can I offer you something to drink, maybe?"

"A coffee would be nice."

"Sure. I'll whip one up. If you want to wait... in the kitchen, maybe? It's more private than out here. I'll just bring the drinks up and get Tom."

 

* * *

 

Tom was confused and not particularly happy that his father showed up unannounced. He sighed, and rolled his eyes and generally stalled going downstairs. "He said he would call back not just show up in the flesh."

"Well, he's here now," Chris said. He'd pulled Tom out to the gallery so the workmen would not hear them.

"This is hardly the place or the time," Tom sighed. "Okay... Will you keep an eye on everything?"

"I thought I'd go with you," Chris said.

"Chris, really, you don't..."

"I want to." Chris' eyes bore into him. "Please, Tom."

"Oooh... the puppy eyes. Chris, not the puppy eyes."

"They're pretty effective," Steve, who just came out the nursery, said jovially.

"Not helping, Steve," Tom said.

"What is it he wants?" Steve carried a couple of shelves and now stacked them against the wall for later assembly.

"My dad just came by and wants to talk to me," Tom sighed. Amazing how fast it seemed as if they had been jovial with each other for a while.

"Take Chris along," Steve suggested. "Luke and I have everything under control up here."

"See?" Chris turned the puppy look up another notch.

"Chris, I know he wants to tell me something really private, and I want him to tell me," Tom said. "Maybe he won't spill it when you're there."

"Well, he seems a grown man to me who can speak up if he doesn't want something," Chris said. "Please." He kissed Tom, and Tom just let it happen, even though they weren't alone. "Let me go with you."

"Okay." He couldn't resist anyway. He rested his forehead against Chris' for just a moment longer, using their connection as his focal point to calm and center him, then took Chris’ hand and turned towards the stairs. His eyes met Steve's, who stood there and smiled indulgently at them. "What?"

Steve shrugged. "Just makes me happy seeing you two together," he said genuinely. "You've always had chemistry, and this just feels really good to me."

"Um... thank you." Tom ducked his head and smiled, pleased with Steve's words.

"Honestly, you should have a coming out party," Steve said. "Celebrate. Don't let this fuss get you down. It'll blow over and you'll still have each other." He looked at each one of them. "I have a feeling this is going to last, and while they still huff and puff, the two of you will be very happy with each other. Don't let them bring you down. Don't take on other people's hate. It's not worth it."

And Tom did something he would never have done before he met Chris, he walked over and kissed Steve on the cheek. "Thank you," he said.

Steve looked very tickled. "No, thank you."

"Uh-huh, now that's enough," Chris growled behind them, making both of them laugh. "No, honestly, man, thanks. I really appreciate you coming over on such short notice and helping."

"Don't mention it." Steve flipped the screwdriver he was holding in his hand. "Back to work now." He winked at them, and they took the stairs.

 

* * *

 

James was waiting, sitting on the bench by the table. Tom greeted him and they hugged, then they sat down on the bench side by side while Chris prepared some coffee for James, and started to heat tea water for Tom. He was there, but unobtrusively in the background, minding his own business, even going so far as getting a few sweets from the pantry to accompany the hot beverages.

"Dad... you didn't have to come by," Tom said. "I thought you were calling me back."

"I wanted to talk to you in person."

"And your business dinner?"

James shrugged. "They can wait. Sometimes it needs to pay that you're the most powerful person in the room."

"Okay then." He could see that James was looking at Chris, who was actually just getting out cups and saucers, a very unsuspicious activity at the best of times. Tom smiled, so glad that Chris felt so at home in his flat, that he was just _there_. "Dad?" He realized, suddenly, his father's reluctance. Without intending it, he had stepped into a situation in which he wasn't in charge. That did not happen often. "Dad, you knew Chris had moved in when we talked on the phone, right?"

"I have to admit I didn't expect it to be so... domestic," James said. "Or that you were remodeling your flat to accommodate his... Chris' daughter. That is quite a substantial change you’re making. Thank you, Chris." He graciously accepted the cup of coffee.

"Sugar? Cream?" Chris asked.

"Both, please. Thank you."

"It's pretty real, isn't it?" Tom said.

"And so sudden. A week, you said? And already living together? Are you sure that's wise?"

"It's working out so far," Tom said. He exchanged a look with Chris, who smiled back at him. "Besides, we figured we're catching up on three years of not being together, so yeah. It's sudden but at the same time it's not, and it just feels right."

"And your wife?" James asked Chris, who had come back with milk and sugar. "How's Elsa taking this development?"

It was a fairly personal, direct question, and Chris took his time to answer it while he sat down at the table opposite Tom. "How you would expect anyone to take it," Chris said. "It's the worst thing... the worst thing to be hurting her like that." He furrowed his brow and Tom reached over to him and touched his arm. "It's what kept both of us the longest from doing this."

James stirred his coffee, all three of them taking a moment of silence.

Tom wondered what was going on behind his father's furrowed brow. Maybe he was thinking back to the time that he broke up with his wife, and what it meant to him. Tom was so used to thinking of his father as the one whose fault it all was that he had never stopped to consider his side of the story. Maybe it wasn't that he didn't want a large family to weigh him down. Maybe it wasn't just that he was hardly home and saw his now wife, Victoria, more than he did Donna and his children. Maybe he really had found something in Vicky that he had been looking for and had not found in Tom's mother. And maybe just life had changed, and changed him with it, and what had fitted so well before suddenly didn't any more.

Tom realized that he had never once considered that his father was a man with reasons and emotions behind what he was doing, apart from just being, well, _his Dad_. It was a bit unsettling and he wondered for a moment how to relate to him in the future. They were sitting here, around this table, discussing very grown up topics, him in a similar situation to one his father had been through twenty years ago. That Chris and he were both male didn’t make a difference at all.

Finally, James put his spoon down on the saucer and took a sip, then directly addressed Chris. "It's the worst thing you can do to your wife and children, so I'm glad to hear you are taking it seriously," he said.

"Very," Chris answered.

"But I do understand... and Tom, I really mean no offense to your mother... I do understand."

"It's the reason I didn't want to say yes when it happened," Tom confided. "Because I didn't want Elsa to hurt the way Mum did back when you left her." The water started boiling in the kettle and Chris got up to retrieve it. Tom wanted his father to understand him, and at the same time, it would somehow mean having to understand, and maybe even sympathize with what James had done all these years ago that had hurt him, his sisters, and his mother so much and had changed all of their lives irreversibly.

"You can't what happened twenty years ago keep you from looking for happiness for the rest of your life," James said. "Those were our mistakes, Tom, not yours. And you're not the one who has to make it right for either one of us. All I want you to do is live your life, find your happiness. There is nothing you owe me, or your mother, other than to making yourself happy."

Tom felt a lump in his throat.

"If anything at all, all you can do is learn from our mistakes and try to do it better. But I have to say, this is not a situation that lends itself to easy solutions, and someone always gets hurt. Always." James looked up when Chris brought back a tray with a steaming pot of tea, two cups, and a small plate with a selection of sweets, which he set in the middle of the table. Chris put the cup in front of Tom, and took the other one, himself. The tea still had to steam, but it looked homely and comfortable.

"You know, dad, it is really so strange that you're possibly the only one who actually understands what's going on at the moment, and at the same time, the reason why you understand is something that nearly killed me, being at the receiving end of it," Tom said. "I'm sorry, I really don't know how to feel right now. I want you to tell me what to do and I want to throw you out at the same time." He began to feel really upset.

"I get it." James picked up the spoon and started stirring his coffee again. "But you're an adult now, not a child any more. You have more power, you can make your own decisions and follow through on them. Back then, you were at the mercy of what we decided, but that time is over. You are always free to do better than we did."

"I thought I was." Tom found his throat close on him once more. "I thought I was by being kind and honorable and avoiding hurting anyone like the plague. And now I'm in a situation where my happiness is breaking someone else's heart. That's not me." He shook his head. "That didn't used to be me." He looked at Chris. "I fall in love with him, and he falls in love with me, and I have the choice between breaking his heart if I say no, and breaking Elsa's heart if I say yes."

"It's never just been your decision," Chris said, reaching over to take his hand. "Tom."

"I know." He ducked his head, swallowing. "Sometimes that doesn't make it easier." To his surprise, he felt his father's hand reach over and rub his back, which startled him, but also made his tears flow in earnest. "God, look at me."

"You've had a tough day," Chris said. "We all did. You can cry."

This was not what Tom had expected. Tom had not expected to be handed the freedom to make his own mistakes, to be released from trying to do right by his mother what his father had missed to do. His world view slanted, again, and he wasn't sure he could accommodate all these changes at once. He knew he'd have to examine all of this slowly, one by one, to make it truly his, but the _relief_... his heart already felt the relief, and at the same time the loss of a responsibility he had liked to take on. To be so needed. If he wasn't needed to make things better, what would he be needed for?

He looked up into Chris' eyes, those beautiful, bright blue eyes, seeking his answers there.

"Dad, tell me what you wanted to say before, when we were on the phone," he said finally and turned his head to look at his father. "Why are you sorry I fell in love with a man? And how did you want to spare me that?" He just wanted it to be over with, have all of it on the table before he would finally crumble and just roll into a ball.

James sighed. He took one of the biscuits Chris had put on the table and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "I'm afraid it's not an uplifting tale," he said. "And there's a lot... a lot I'd hoped I'd never... never have to mention."

"Like what?" Tom meshed his hand with Chris' in an unconscious gesture, but he realized that James saw it. His eyes lingered on their joined hands, but there was no adverse reaction, he was simply taking the sight in, weighing it in his mind.

"Let me go back a bit to illustrate what I have to say," James said. "Not to make excuses, just to explain where I'm coming from."

"We've got time," Chris said.

James shook his head, more to himself than to them. "I had a cousin, George. Back when we still lived in Glasgow."

"I'm not familiar with the name," Tom said, furrowing his brow.

"You wouldn't, because he was dead by the time you were born. I really don't want to get into the details, but he was... like you." James ran a hand through his hair in a gesture that Tom recognized as one of his own. "He was my favorite cousin, five years older than I was, literate, intelligent, thoughtful. A lot like you, in fact. I'm sure you two would have got on famously had he lived.You remind me so much of George."

"What happened to him?" Tom asked, already afraid what he would hear.

"He hanged himself," James said, the distress over the loss still visible in his face. "On a beam in the attic."

"Why?" Tom sat up straighter.

"Because he'd been caught with a man and faced losing his job and his reputation. He tried to spare his family the humiliation and the shame."

"That is horrible," Chris said. "Was he blackmailed?"

"I was too young to be told the whole truth," James said. "And everyone tried to cover it up afterwards. Bad enough he had taken his own life, but that he was gay, no one was talking about this. I heard it from his sisters, they were the only ones who would talk to me."

"How old were you when that happened?"

"Fifteen, sixteen, something like that. I don't remember exactly."

If his meticulous, number-crunching father had forgotten a detail like that, it must have been truly distressing. "I'm sorry for your loss, Dad," he said. "You sound like you loved him very much."

"Well, yeah, it's been a while ago. But there's a second part to this story, and... just let me finish."

"Okay."

"When you grew up, you really resembled my cousin, and I loved you just as much, Tom. But I took care to steer you away from that, because I was afraid you'd end up like George."

Tom was alarmed. "Are you telling me you suspected I might be gay?"

James shrugged. "I thought it might be a possibility."

"And you did what to prevent it...?" Tom asked, realizing that his voice had dropped to a near growl. "Dad?"

"I didn't just send you to Eton to give you the best education," James said. "I sent you so they would toughen you up a bit. That you would learn how to deal with things independently. You were so soft, so fragile, your head always in the clouds. I knew if you stayed that way, you'd be picked on and bullied and called names. I couldn't leave you like this, not if I wasn't in the house to see that your mother didn't indulge you softness even more."

"What. Did. You. Do?" Tom asked.

"At first things went very wrong. You went to Eton and they sent us reports back that you'd befriended that boy. Alarming reports that said you two were sharing a bed and were inseparable. That was the last thing I wanted! I was very close to pulling you out and sending you somewhere else, but when they heard of my concerns, they made sure you were separated and put into a different group. I made them understand that you were not to be treated with kid gloves, and that I wouldn't tolerate that kind of behavior. And the following years seemed to prove me right. You started playing rugby and were successful, so I gave it a rest and stopped worrying so much. And here we are now, and it seems it was all in vain."

"Hah." Tom gave one humorless laugh. "You can't be serious. It was all in vain?"

"I was clearly not successful," James said, indicating their still joined hands.

Tom just stared at him, trying to make sense of the fact that his father had been the root cause for all this misery, for so many years, and in completely different ways than he had believed for so long. He was dumbstruck, just gaping at him

Apparently, Chris wasn't so hindered. "Now let me get this straight," he said, "you sent Tom to Eton and asked them to roughen him up a bit?"

"I wanted him to be like other boys," James said. "For his own protection."

Chris laughed. It didn't sound nice. "You sent your only son, who really needed you to have his back, away to strangers, and when he was trying to find someone who would be there for him, you specifically took that person away and made sure that he was put somewhere where he would definitely not fit in?"

"When you put it that way..." James looked a little uncomfortable.

"Have you ever taken the time and got to know Tom? How generous he is, how kind, how loving? What parent in their right mind would want to change that?"

James had no fit answer.

"Have you ever really noticed how incredibly talented he is? Do you have any idea how much more he could do if he didn't have to hold on so tight for fear someone could notice he's in love with a man? Jesus!" Chris' flat hand slapped the table. "You are such a sorry excuse for a father I'm at a loss for words!"

Tom just stared, stared in wonder at Chris taking his side so completely, wholly, fully, saying things he might not find the words for at this point, or would never say to his father's face in the first place.

"You're not fit to be in his company," Chris said. "You haven't earned the right to sit at this table! I want you to leave."

James looked at Tom to say something.

"I want you to leave _right now_." Chris' tone didn't brook an argument.

"I don't think it's your place to..." James started.

"No," Tom said quietly. "It is his place. Please leave."

James blinked. "You are throwing me out?"

"I think... I think what you've just said... I think you have no idea what you did to me back then," Tom said. "How incredibly miserable I was and... how I thought, all these years... that falling in love with a man was the worst thing that could happen to me when nothing, nothing and no one, has ever made me as happy as this man sitting right here. You..." He exhaled, fighting back tears. "You've made me think I was _wrong_ somehow, and that I had to change so I'd be worthy of love. I just can't have that here, right now. This, here, makes me happy. This is what I want. If it's not good enough for you, so be it." He stood. "I want you to leave. I can't look at you right now."

"I meant no harm."

"But it was done, and it has consequences, Dad!" Tom exclaimed. "I need time to think about what I want to do now, but right now... right now I don't want you here." He nodded at him. "I'll bring you to the door."

James stiffly got to his feet, for the first time showing that this was getting to him. Both Chris and Tom brought him to the door, and Tom got his coat, hat and shawl and handed them to him. There wasn't much more to say; Tom couldn't get himself to build bridges for his father at this point. He didn't want to destroy more, either, so he kept his counsel, waiting for the moment where he had time to think about what had happened, and how he wanted to proceed. And, he noticed with surprise, he wanted to talk with Chris about what to do next.

Tom couldn't even get himself to say something like "We'll stay in touch," or "I'll call you."

All he said to his father before he left was "Goodbye."


	19. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the title says. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say Thank You, so much, to everyone who keeps leaving comments and feedback and generally lets me know how they feel about the chapters as I post them. You help me keep things on track, and the story is so much better because of you! Kissa, I hope you don't mind that I used a turn of phrase that you put into one of your comments that just didn't leave my brain any more. You'll know it when you see it. 
> 
> Lots of love from me. <3
> 
> Warning: Have hankies ready. I cried. In a good way. :´)

The door clapped in James Hiddleston's wake, and left two utterly exhausted men behind.

Tom felt Chris' arms slide around him from behind, and Chris' front connecting with his back, the side of his face touching his own. It wasn't possessive, it wasn't passionate, it was a simple attempt to connect, to feel that neither one of them was alone in this, that they were facing this together.

He was relieved that Chris didn't attempt to communicate or comfort. He was just there, offering silent support and receiving it from Tom at the same time. Tom let his hands slide along Chris' arms and leaned back into him, which earned him a kiss on the cheek, and he felt Chris' arms contract around him.

It was fairly dark in the hallway, also cool from the stairwell, and Tom relished the silence, the closeness of his partner, to just exist in this moment in time, with no new input pounding at him, clamoring to also be processed and examined and acknowledged. His eyes half closed, he started to rock them gently, and felt Chris exhale against him. Chris was holding on to him like a ship to its anchor, and that in turn grounded him, gave him a sense of reality and purpose.

_I am the luckiest person alive,_ Tom thought, and he turned half way in Chris' embrace and kissed him; Chris' mouth finding his in the dark. _I love you. You're my hero, Chris._ He couldn't make himself say these words out loud, more words would not make things different or better at this point. But he wasn't an actor for no reason, and neither was Chris; the way he kissed him back, the way his body shifted, his hands began to caress him, needed no words, either. 

_I adore you,_ it said. _I worship you. Let me be by your side always. I want to share my life with you from here on until forever._

"Yes," Tom whispered against those lips, and felt them curve into a smile against his mouth. "Yes, I want that, too."

Chris turned him in his arms, wrapping around him the way he had once requested, from head to butt, and kissed him properly, reverently, every breath a promise. _I will be with you always. I will not go anywhere. I love you more than life itself._ It was as if each of those kisses, every moment that ticked away like this, extinguished, one by one, the burning marks of his family's resentment left on him today. Where he had shifted to accommodate everyone else's needs before, he was now fully growing into his own shape, and Chris acknowledged and worshiped every inch of it. _You are worthy of love. I claim you. I am rejoicing in you. You are mine._

Tom moaned softly and felt Chris' arms around him tighten. Chris pressed his forehead against Tom's, breathing into Tom's mouth, trembling.

"I know," Tom whispered. "I know." His thumb traced his lover's lower lip and was caught by his teeth. It made him smile, the wave of tenderness crashing over him erasing the last bits of resentment and fear left over by this day. _You make me grow into the person I need to be. You'll have my endless devotion and neverending love for that. Thank you for seeing me. Thank you for recognizing what I was too fearful to acknowledge. I love you to the end of the world and back._

Chris released a trembling breath, smiling tentatively at him. "Wow."

"Yeah." Tom leaned in and traced Chris' lower lip with the tip of his tongue, then kissed him possessively. "Mine."

Chris' answer was a desperate whimper.

"Mine," Tom repeated. "Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine." And he knew, without a shred of doubt, how this night would end, must end. Not in resentment, not in fear, not in mulling over the adversity that was blowing into their faces. All of that counted nothing in the face of what they had. Nothing. Their loss, his gain. "Let me have you, Chris."

"Oh, god."

"Will you, please, let me have you, my love? Please."

"Yes." He could hardly hear Chris. The other man was shaking in his arms, his breath coming in desperate gasps.

"Hey," Tom said gently. "It's okay. You don't have to if you don't..."

"Yes," Chris exhaled. "Yes. Please. Please have... me. Oh, god."

"It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay." He pressed a kiss on Chris' forehead. "I've got you."

"I can't wait." He sounded so desperate.

"I know." He wrapped his arms around Chris' shoulders, one hand against his neck. "I know. I'm sorry I let you wait so long."

"I need you... so much." The last two words nothing more than a whisper. "Please."

The frailty in Chris' voice took Tom's breath away. "I promise, Chris. I promise. I promise, my love." There was so much need at his fingertips, so much vulnerability, so much that he had not been ready for yet. He needed Chris to be his rock, he needed his calm fortitude to guide him, but here was a Chris who wanted, no _needed_ to shed exactly that, and desired nothing more than to be claimed intimately and thoroughly. And he would. He would give him just that. "We still have guests," he murmured, but he had to smile. "You'll have to wait until they're gone."

"Oh, god." Chris gave a helpless laugh. "And you still need to call Sannah."

Tom shook his head. "I can't talk about this any more. I can't take in any more of other people's feelings about this. It's 1am in New Delhi. I'm sending her a short message. I need you right now, no one else."

"My parents may call," Chris said apologetically. "I'm sorry."

Tom smiled and raised a playful brow at him. "So you'll have to be patient... Chris."

"Tell me again for what...?" Chris pressed against him.

"For me to take you," Tom whispered in his ear, the whole man shaking in reaction. "Hmmm."

"How will you do it?" Chris asked hoarsely, his voice so full of anticipation.

"With you," Tom said, and he smiled. "You'll see." There was a beautiful intimacy about this now, connecting them long before anything happened. He straightened. "Do you want to see what Steve and Luke have done with India's room?"

"Why don't you... eh... go ahead and I come right after?" Chris asked, blushing just the slightest bit.

Tom chuckled warmly. "Are you sure?"

"Hm, positive. If you stay here to wait with me, that's not going to help."

"Okay." Tom pecked him on the lips. "Don't take too long." He extricated himself from Chris' embrace, their hands still connected, and he got about two steps away before Chris reeled him back in. "Did you change your mind?" Tom asked, silently amused.

"Are you sure?" Chris asked again. "Are you sure you want to do this, Tom? Don't do it for my sake if you're still uncomfortable with..."

"Sh." Tom put his finger on Chris' lips. "I do it because you need it, and because I want to give it to you. And because I want to, okay?"

"Okay." He looked so relieved, so happy, so thrilled.

"I love you, Chris." Tom kissed him softly.

"Love you, too." Chris shivered. "Go now."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Instead of going upstairs right away, Tom returned to the kitchen. He stood in the doorway and observed the table setting. His father had sat there, drinking his coffee. The cup was empty. Their tea was still in the cups. He observed it like a set stage: what opportunities did this offer, what set of characters did this need, what topics would be discussed? And who was writing the script to this play?

He moved forward quietly, collecting his father's things and cleaned them by hand. He needed the reality of holding them in his hands and removing every stain, watching it go down the drain before putting everything up to dry. After, he returned to the table and sat down with his phone. He took a sip of his now lukewarm tea, but didn't mind, it still tasted good. After a moment of contemplation, he called up a message window and typed out a message to Sannah.

"Hey sis," it read. "Dad was here and spilled about Eton. I'm a bit in shock, but I'm also kind of relieved... it puts a lot of things in perspective that I didn't understand before. Chris told him to leave, he was livid. My hero." He smiled to himself. "Please don't worry about me as Chris takes good care of me. Please accept my apologies that I'm simply too worn out and exhausted by what was going on today. I promise I'll call you soon. All my love, Tom."

He reread the message and pressed send, then put the phone away to take another sip of tea. He heard that someone ascended the wooden stairs to the gallery, knowing it was Chris. But he needed the time-out, a moment of peace, just to himself. Chris was perfectly capable of explaining what had been going on, if he wanted to, and he didn't feel the need to censor or caution him.

His phone beeped. It was a message from Sannah.

"I was there when he got the phone call about you and that other boy. I know what he said. I was just fourteen but I knew what he was doing was terribly wrong. We had an awful row, but of course he would not listen to a teenage girl. I know that now but I've been feeling terribly guilty about it for years, that I couldn't help you."

Another message popped up.

"I love you no matter what. You are my brother, that will never change. If Chris makes you happy, I'm happy. Can't wait to talk, but I understand. Hugs and kisses from me, Raheem, and the girls. We love you. xx"

Tom found himself smiling fondly, but turned off his phone for the time being, just sitting and thinking, the tea cup in his hands, the ticking of the wall clock in the background. It wasn't even anything particular he was thinking; he just let his thoughts wander every which way, letting his mind do its own cleaning up, just breathed.

Before too long, there was a gentle knock against the doorjamb, and Luke stuck his head through the frame: "Do you want to come upstairs, see what's been done?" he asked.

"I'll be there in a moment," Tom said.

"Okay."

He finished his tea at his own pace and put the cup in the sink, then slowly made his way upstairs. He felt very acutely that he needed some time with himself now, time to rest, and time to let it all sink in. It was 9pm and they'd had a long day, and he wanted to have some time to make true on his promise to Chris.

But the sight that awaited him when he stepped into the guest... strike that. The nursery. He stepped into a full-blown nursery; dresser, cot, changing table, a comfortable rocking chair with a soft blanket thrown over it. A small, colorful rug in the middle that he could half remember having chosen that afternoon in the store. A mobile over the cot, and a night light in the shape of a moon on clouds.

"Oh my god," he said. He felt his jaw drop as this new reality started to trickle through all the mayhem the day had brought. "Oh. My. God."

"Do you like it?" Luke asked, beaming proudly.

"Like it? This is so... lovely." He walked over to the cot, where the new sheets were already unpacked, waiting for a first washing. The mattress was in, the padding around the rim was colorful and playful. He had chosen that particular pattern because it reminded him of India's smile, but to see it put in like that was a completely different thing.

"Come see this," Chris said. He was standing by the rocking chair and pointed behind it. Tom had to come close and lean over the substantial chair to see that his former night stand was now a bookshelf and practically burst with all the books he had bought for India that afternoon.

"We'll get another shelf," Chris said. "I doubt the books you are going to buy will all fit on this."

"The books I'm going to buy," Tom murmured. And as he looked at Chris' face, he remembered the scene in the car, when Chris had asked him if he would help him take care of India. It had all been such a blur. Chris had wanted to make it special. Make what special?

"I expect you'll shower her in books as she grows up," Steve said laconically. "Wouldn't expect anything else. I was actually looking for _Baby's First Shakespeare_."

"I have a 16-book boxed set of illustrated stories by Shakespeare for children in the attic that I wanted to give her, from when I was little," Tom said, momentarily confused by everyone's laughter.

"I think that was just the thing that was missing," Luke said decisively. "We were looking for that finishing touch. Why don't you go get it right now?"

"Right now?" Tom looked around him. "I don't think it's going to fit on that shelf any more... wait a second. I'll be right back."

He left the room and went to the attic. It was cold, and now filled to the brim with the extra guest bed and a few other items from the former guest room in it, but he found the box of books fast, and had the required tome in hand a few moments later. He was immediately tempted to look through the lot, to see if there was more in there that India might like, but decided to postpone that until later. Choosing books shouldn't be rushed.

He turned off the light and closed the door behind him, seeing the three men already waiting for him with indulgent smiles on their faces. He was a little confused about that but chose to ignore it.

"What did you get?" Chris asked expectantly.

"Here. One of my favorites. It's _The Children's Shakespeare_ by Edit Nesbit. I loved it when I grew up. I could read it to India when she goes to sleep."

"Then put it right on top so it's the first thing you can do next weekend," Chris said.

Tom did that, feeling a lightness of heart that he had not expected. "Luke, Steve, you really outdid yourselves," he said genuinely. "I am blown away, this is so beautiful."

"Well, the workmen did the hard work," Luke said modestly. "We just told them where to put what and decorated a little. We left some things in the boxes, though, we thought you two would like to do some of it, yourselves."

"I don't know what to say."

"Well," Steve said, starting to turn down his sleeves. "It's been fun, but I think we're going to head home."

"Really?" He suddenly had a bad conscience. "I apologize. I've been a horrible host."

Steve waved him off. "We had pizza and wine, coffee and ice cream, we got to indulge in putting a little girl's room together, which is a rare treat, and we had the pleasure of keeping everything out of your hair while you were dealing with really rough stuff." He furrowed his brow, then seemed to make a decision and crossed the room in a few steps, pulling Tom into a manly hug.

Tom felt the wind getting knocked out of him, but he reciprocated, clapping Steve's back. "Thank you, Steve," he said. "For everything."

Steve let him go. "Just want you to know that we have your back," he said, then pointed at Chris. "Yours, too."

"We really appreciate that," Chris said genuinely. "Thank you both. Don't know how we could've done it without you."

Tom knew he was absolutely honest about that. "What he said," he added. "Thank you so much for coming by."

"We're just expecting to be invited to a tea party by the owner of this room at some point," Luke added. "We expect proper cucumber sandwiches and ginger biscuits for our labors."

Chris laughed. "That's going to be a while," he said. "But if you want to spend a couple of hours playing with her, I'm sure that could be arranged."

"Sounds perfect." Luke also approached and gave Tom a hug. "Chin up," he said against his ear. "We've all been there and it's horrible now, but it's going to get better, I promise."

"Thank you so much for your support," Tom said. "And so much for coming by. It really was a huge help."

It pleased Luke immensely to hear that. He also gave Chris a hug, then said: "We'll let ourselves out, don't worry. You two must be exhausted." He looked at Tom. "And we'll talk next week?"

"I'll call you," Tom said. He felt Chris' hand on his shoulder, knowing that they must look so much like an expecting couple, but didn't mind. "Thank you again!"

"Don't mention it!" Both men gave a final wave at the door, then disappeared down the stairs.

"God, they're precious," Tom exhaled.

"Yeah."

"That was a great idea, to ask them to come over," Tom admitted. He looked at Chris. "Thank you."

"Uh-huh." 

They looked at each other, both of them wearing small, expectant smiles, waiting for the other to breach the subject, but neither really knowing how.

"Nine thirty, sweetheart," Tom finally said. "Do you think your parents are up yet?"

Chris did quick math in his head. "Eh," he said. "Doubtful. It's already Sunday over there, and they like to sleep in on the weekends. They'll probably call around midnight London time."

Tom wrapped his arm around Chris' back. "What do you want to do? Wait for their call?"

Chris took a nervous breath. "Um, what's the alternative?" he asked, shuffling his feet.

It was absolutely adorable to see him like this. Tom turned around so they were face to face, and linked their hands. "I don't know," he said teasingly. "I was thinking of maybe a bath?"

Chris let out a breathy laugh. "I've got to be honest, I'm more nervous than a 14-year-old virgin," he admitted.

"Sweetheart, we don't have to do this right now, or this night," Tom soothed. "Tomorrow is another day, for example. We can take it slow."

Chris took his hand and played with Tom's fingers, nervously shifting his weight. "I don't think you understand..." he said, blushing a little. "Just how much I crave you... crave having you inside of me."

"Okay." Tom leaned in to kiss him softly. "You set the pace, Chris."

Chris let his fingertips dance along Tom's back. "This is like the first time all over again, isn't it?"

"Yes, but this time I can appreciate it," Tom said. "I was so nervous. I was so close to balking."

"You seemed so sophisticated and experienced with all those playthings," Chris murmured, stepping closer. Within a moment, nothing existed but them.

Tom let out an amused laugh. "You have no idea," he said, "how close I was to run away screaming."

"Why?"

"You know why, my love." Tom kissed him gently. "The only thing that kept me in that bed was that I didn't know if I'd ever get that chance again." His hand slid down Chris' belly. "The only reason why I stayed was because I wanted to make love to you so desperately... I wanted to make love to you more than I was afraid."

He heard Chris' indrawn breath. "And if you hadn't?"

"Then we probably wouldn't be here right now," Tom admitted, the mere thought immediately haunting him. "Oh, that would be so awful."

"So is it worth it?" Chris' lips were so soft on Tom's. Tom whimpered into the kiss, strained into it.

"Yes." He let his tongue play against Chris', immensely enjoying the way they slowly built the fire of passion between them. "You are worth everything. This is worth everything. Never doubt that."

He felt Chris shudder at his words and he deepened the kiss, pouring every ounce of appreciation and worship into it that he had. "I can't wait to make love to you," he strained. "Chris, I can't wait."

Chris' phone rang.

"Nooo." Tom bumped his head against Chris' shoulder. "Worst timing _ever_."

Chris chuckled. "Let me check if it's them?" he said. "I was pretty freaked out when I called them. It would be unfair not to answer."

"Okay then." Tom sighed dramatically, making Chris grin, and let himself fall into the rocking chair. It was surprisingly soft, and he rocked it experimentally, immediately deciding that this was his new favorite chair.

Chris eyed him, shaking his head with amusement, and picked up the phone. "Hello? Oh mom, great to hear your voice. Yes, he's here with me." He looked at Tom. "Did you leave your phone somewhere?"

Tom checked his pocket. "Oh yeah, I think it's still in the kitchen." He blinked as Chris made a show of wanting to sit with him in the rocking chair as he was talking to his phone. He scooted to one side as far as he could and was rewarded with a lap full of Hemsworth a moment later. Chris slung his legs over one of the arms and leaned comfortably against his torso as if they'd done this a million times.

The familiarity of the gesture took Tom's breath away as he cradled Chris' head in his left arm and kissed his brow, delighted when Chris looked up at him and smiled. It wasn't too uncomfortable, really, Chris' weight equally distributed along his thighs and chest, as well as the chair's arm and seat. Again, he found himself marveling at how rigid his own (mis)conception of gender roles were, even though they were both men. Since he, Tom, was the physically lighter and had less bulk, it seemed natural that he would be the one cuddling up to or sitting on Chris, and he'd gotten so used to it that he didn't think much about it any more. But between the two of them, he had to admit, Chris was by far the more zealous cuddler, thriving on body contact, hugs and kisses. He had to think back to this afternoon, when Chris had slept on him for two hours, his head under his shirt so he'd be as close as possible. He kissed him again and let his hand slip through Chris' hair, just admiring his ability to be so much in sync with what he needed, and not letting convention or preconception hold him back. He suddenly thought of that moment this evening, when Chris had told his father point-blank that he was sure that Tom could do so much more if he wasn't so afraid to let slip that he was in love with a man. He felt his gut twist in reaction, letting him know that there might be some truth to that. 

Tom purposefullyallowed his mind to relax and observe the situation, him in the rocking chair, with a delectable man poured into his lap, and he found his hand slipping under Chris' shirt, tracing his abs with gentle inquisitiveness. He really wanted and needed to make love now, cement this more than extraordinary connection and celebrate it. His fingertip wandered lower and traced around Chris' easily visible erection, and then he started to gently but insistently palm him.

Chris started, and looked at him with wide eyes, pointing at the phone in his hands. _What are you doing?_

_I want to make love,_ Tom mouthed. _I don't want to wait._

Chris gave him a look and clamped a hand over Tom's. "Hm? No, no, Tom is being naughty, mom, sorry." He laughed. "Yes. Obviously."

Tom ducked his head and pressed his lips against Chris' neck until he could feel the blood pulsing through his jugular vein, then gently started sucking and licking at it, his hand under Chris' pressing against his cock. He felt Chris' pelvis rise before Chris realized what he was doing andpinned him with another stare, shaking his head at him.

Tom grinned insolently.

"Of course you can talk to him," Chris said, a naughty glint in his eye. "I love you, too."

He handed the phone to Tom, who had to remove his hand fromits warm, delicious resting place to take it. "Hello Fiona," he said, frowningdisapprovingly at Chris, who just laughed at him.

"Tom, how are you?" she asked. "We had a very concerned call by Chris, that's why I'm calling back immediately." She yawned. "Don't mind me, I'm not really awake yet."

"That is so kind of you," Tom said. He took a breath, feeling Chris' hand settle on his chest, his head leaning against the backrest, looking at him adoringly. "It's been pretty awful," he admitted. Surrounded by the love that had been poured into this room, the love that was wrapped around him right now, the love that poured over him through Fiona's voice, all that had happened today seemed so surreal. "Did Chris tell you what happened?"

"No. He was very upset, though. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm... I'm trying to think of what I can say that won't let everything come up again right away," Tom said truthfully. "We were out buying furniture for India's room..."

"Oh really, how is that going?"

Tom found himself telling her enthusiastically how beautiful everything had turned out to be, and felt himself relax into the situation. "I can't wait for her to see everything," he said. "I want to know if she likes it."

"I'm sure she will," Fiona said fondly. "So you were out shopping, and then?"

"I made a stupid blunder and accidentally outed us to Evie," Tom sighed. "And she was very upset with me, started yelling at me and Chris, and stormed out of the store. So that wasn't so good."

"And then?"

"And then on the way back, my mum called me and also started yelling at me. Then she started yelling at Chris. I can't stand anyone yelling at Chris, so I eventually hung up on her." He sighed. "I've never hung up on my mum in my life."

"I didn't peg them to be homophobic," Fiona said. "That is so strange!"

"I don't think that's it," Tom said. "Or at least not all of it, or the main reason. They're upset about other things.. it's really complicated to explain. And then last, my dad showed up and..."

"He came by?"

"Yes, he was in the neighborhood for a conference and just turned up." He felt the pain about that well up again and bit his lower lip. "Fiona, it's really hard to talk about this," he said. "It all just happened and I think it's going to take me a little while to come to terms with it. It feels like I've been waking a sleeping lion. We've been tiptoeing around this beast for ages, everyone being careful not to trip him, and then boom! Like me being with Chris is the match that's been lighting the fuse, but except for my dad, I'm not sure any of it really has to do with the fact that Chris is a man, if that makes any sense at all. More with..." He took a breath and shook his head, trying to find the right words. "It has more to do with not fitting the mold any more, with making decisions for me, not necessarily for my family, if that makes any sense?"

"It does," she said. "And maybe it helps you to know that that kind of thing is not uncommon in a divorced family. That individual children are forced into a role that an adult should have filled, but since the adult was not available or absent for some reason, the sensitive, loving child grows up to be what Mom or Dad need."

"That does sound familiar," Tom said, slowly feeling himself into the scenario Fiona painted. "But I want my own happiness now. I just can't give this up for anyone, not even my family."

"And that is a good thing," Fiona said fondly. "I'm very happy you're finding that with my boy."

"Oh god, thank you so much for saying that." Tom felt his eyes fill with tears of relief.

"Tom, you're really good for Chris. You should hear how he talks about you. You make him so happy. It really makes my heart glad that you two have found each other, even if it's rough going right now."

Tom drew a sobbing breath. "That is the kindest thing anyone has said to me today," he said. "You have no idea what that means to me."

"I'm so sorry this is so rough on you, on both of you," Fiona said. "It really shouldn't be any more in our day and age." She sighed. "And it does make me angry that they're taking out their own problems on you, and on Chris. I understand it's a complicated situation, but it is already hard on you both as it is for various reasons. Why make matters worse for someone you claim you love?"

Tom was openly weeping now, tears streaming down his face. Chris wiped them off gently and took over the phone.

"Mom, it's me for a moment. Tom's crying. Are you okay?" He listened to Fiona's reply. "Mom asks if you are okay?"

Tom nodded, cuddling into Chris.

"He says yes. What did you say?" He listened, and his own eyes filled with tears. "Mom, you have no idea what that means today. No idea." He gently kissed Tom's forehead while listening to his mother. "It's been really hard. I've never been on the receiving end of so much pure hatred. And they aren't even my family, but it's really hard to see people you used to get along with just fine or even liked become so _unhinged_. Over something that means so much to me..." His voice lowered. "And feels so precious and sacred." He laughed wetly at Fiona's reply. "Well, thanks a lot, mom, for making two grown men cry."

Tom took over the phone. "Which is a good thing, don't let him tell you otherwise," he told her. "We love you. You really have no idea..." He sniffed. "Oh god, here I go again."

She laughed gently, but he could hear that this didn't leave her unaffected, either. "I'm happy I could help," she said simply.

"More than you know," Tom said. "More than you could possibly ever know."

"Good." He could hear her smile through the phone. "So calling back in the middle of the night was worth it after all." She yawned once more.

He chuckled. "Yes. Very. But you can go back to sleep. I think we'll be okay now."

"Tom, would you like me to send you a bit of information about the effect of divorce on the affected children?" Fiona asked. "I'm sure you'll also want to make sure to help India with the transition."

"God, yes, that would be wonderful," Tom gushed. "I can already see you're going to be the dream mother-in-law. You get me."

Fiona laughed. "Doing my best," she said smugly. "Go keep making my boy happy, and we have a deal."

"Definitely," Tom said, smiling brightly. "I would really appreciate that material. You are right, I've already been worrying about that. I even talked to Elsa about it today... just to let her know I'm not taking any of this lightly."

"You talked to Elsa?"

"Yeah. It was good, actually. I wanted to make sure she was okay with bringing India by, and leaving her here with me and Chris."

"You're a saint," Fiona said. "You, Tom Hiddleston, are too good for this world. Just about good enough for my Chris, mind you." They both laughed.

"I get that," Tom said fondly.

"Uh-huh. But really. You talked to Elsa? And you talked rationally with each other about India?"

"For the most part, yes," Tom said, feeling a bit proud of himself about it now. "It's like you said before – she's already hurting, why make it worse?"

"Your family doesn't deserve you, Tom," Fiona said decisively. "They really don't. I truly hope for you that things will calm down, and you find back to a family life you can all live with. But I want you to know that you're always welcome with us, okay? Always."

"Thank you."

"And if you need anything, or you need to talk, or need more information, don't hesitate to call or mail or text."

"Okay."

"Is it okay to leave you two alone?"

"Yes," Tom said very fondly. "We'll talk soon, though."

"Will you hand over the phone to Chris one last time?"

"Okay. And thank you again. For everything."

"You're very welcome, sweetie. Have a good night and enjoy your Sunday."

"You, too." There was a huge lump in his throat as he handed the phone back to Chris. "I love her."

Chris smiled at him as he took over the phone. Tom watched him as he spoke with his mother much in the same loving manner, a part of him wishing that he had that back with his own mother, and the other just reveling in how effortlessly she surrounded both of them with love. The level of simple acceptance and support was something he knew he wanted to emulate with his own children. It was so in sync with how he saw the world, and the suffering in it, that he felt quite an affinity to her and looked forward to many talks like this, sharing his thoughts, and learning more.

Before long, Chris had said his goodbyes and turned off the phone, locking it carefully to prevent further calls to interrupt them. He set it aside and smiled at Tom, his hand cradling Tom's jaw and leaning over to kiss him gently.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Tom smiled at him. "I'm perfect."


	20. Be Careful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of a long, crazy day, Chris finds that he may have bitten off a lot more than he can chew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one and the next two chapters kind of belong together but were way too long to post all at once. I realize that I - and at least one of my characters - may get flak for this one. Please give us the benefit of the doubt. Some things just look simpler from the outside.

Tom was lighting candles in the bathroom when Chris came in and unceremoniously wrapped himself around Tom's back.

"Hey," he said, pressing his lips against that spot behind Tom's ear.

"Hey." Tom set down the lighter and turned in his arms. "Everything okay?"

Chris drew a grimace and then laughed. "Let's just say I can imagine more pleasant things."

"Uh-huh." Tom placed a kiss on his chin, grimacing in sympathy. "I can imagine."

"It was worth it," Chris assured him. His bright blue eyes searched Tom's, sending a thrill down Tom's spine. "You know I want you to be absolutely comfortable with..."

"I know."

"I don't want you to hold back," Chris said. "Not because you worry that anything may not be spic and span."

"I want you," Tom said, gazing earnestly in Chris' eyes. "Please don't doubt that I want this very much."

Chris grasped Tom's hands and kissed them, one kiss each. "Are you sure?" Chris asked. "I don't doubt your commitment, but until this morning..."

"I am sure," he said, kissing Chris' forehead. "But what about you, do you have second thoughts?"

Chris didn't look at him and shuffled his feet.

"Love?"

It seemed like he had hit the bull's eye.

"I've been begging you to do this for so long, I can't now put disclaimers on everything," Chris said, sounding incredibly frustrated.

"Of course you can," Tom assured him. "We don't have to do this tonight if you're not comfortable. We don't have to do this tomorrow. You tell me when you're ready."

"I've done all this prep now..."

"Nothing you can't do over," Tom assured him. "Chris. Hey." He brushed a hand through his lover's hair, pressing their foreheads together. "You'll be fine. We'll be fine. We love each other and we want to be together and _there is no pressure_."

"I don't know why this is suddenly so difficult," Chris mewled.

"Because it's suddenly so real, and attainable," Tom said. "It's easy to wish for something when you know it's not very likely to happen, and then feel in over your head when the opportunity suddenly presents itself."

"I feel silly."

"Welcome to my world." Tom smiled gently at him, touching his cheek. "You're a part of my soul now, Chris. Do you really think I could do this to you instead of with you? Do you really think I would enjoy this if you didn't?"

"No." Chris bit his lower lip.

"Come. You've asked me for a bath for a while now and we've never had enough time. We've both had a long, really difficult day, following a very long week in which we hardly saw each other. All I want right now is bask in that hot water with you and feel you against me and just love you. Please let me make love with you, Chris."

Chris still looked a little doubtful.

"Any way you like," Tom said. "Oh, darling." He contracted his brow in commiseration. "Let me wash your back?"

Chris groaned, half-laughing, half in complete and utter embarrassment, covering his face with his hand. "I wasn't joking about the 14-year-old-virgin."

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't make love to a 14-year-old virgin," Tom said patiently. "I want to make love with you." He realized he may have to back up even further. "Or do you want us to just go to bed and cuddle?"

"No." Chris took a deep breath. "I'm just... afraid."

"Of what?" Tom asked patiently.

Chris shrugged, looking a bit embarrassed. "It might hurt."

_Oh._ "I take it that cleaning you just did wasn't that comfortable, really, was it?" Tom asked.

Chris shook his head.

"Listen, if you hurt anything there, then it's not going to happen tonight either way. It would be far too dangerous," Tom said.

"No, it's not that, everything went... smoothly and it didn't hurt. I just didn't imagine it to feel so intrusive," Chris finally let his guard down. "I was really startled."

"And that was so much smaller than I am, huh?"

Chris nodded. "I have no idea how women do this."

"Not through the backwards entrance, for starters," Tom said ironically. "Like you said today, we're not really built to receive each other, huh? Amazingly, though, I've heard that some people seem to enjoy it so much that they want to do it all the time."

Chris gave him a small smile. "Really?"

"Apparently." Tom shrugged. "Not that I would know about that." He kissed Chris gently. "You do know that in my eyes you're super courageous because you know I won't let anyone ever near there."

"I played with it today," Chris said, allowing himself to be pulled into Tom's thrall. "You didn't seem to be too fed up with it."

"That's because you're an amazing lover, Chris," Tom said, and slowly began to caress Chris' neck. "You always make me feel completely safe. I know you wouldn't do anything that I wouldn't want. You've made me feel fantastic this afternoon. I can just let go with you, because I know you'll always catch me safely."

"You do that, too," Chris murmured, his hand sliding around Tom's shoulders.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. Remember last week, in the shower? That was so amazing. I love it when you take me apart like that."

" _Really._ " Tom purred. He was starting to get seriously aroused right about now, and if Chris still wanted to pull the plug on this, it would hurt, he knew.

"I can just _let go_ ," Chris confided, his voice nearly a whisper, and Tom realized that he was speaking directly from the most vulnerable part of himself, a place that Tom had seen him reduced to after making love to him, but that he had not spoken from yet. It was one thing to receive something you had no idea you needed this badly, and to actually frame that desire into words, not knowing if it would come to pass, or if you might be laughed at.

"Is that good?" Tom asked, very gently.

Chris nodded.

"Is that what you want, Chris?"

Chris couldn't look at him when he nodded again.

"Come on, love," Tom said, willfully creating a brasher mood. "Let me take you to that enormous bathtub and pamper you to within an inch of your life, huh?"

"Bubbles?" Chris asked.

"And jets," Tom confided. "Bubbles with jets. We're going to _drown_ in bubbles. I promise."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom hadn't been joking, Chris realized a few minutes later. The tub was big enough for them to sit side by side, even, and the jet in his back was pounding at his lumbar region while the one just in front of him created a mountain of bubbles that threatened to envelop him whole.

"This is madness!" Chris laughed. "Are you even anywhere in here?"

Tom batted at the wall of foam between them, peeking through. There was a bold foam quiff on top of his head and he wore a foam beard. "Do you want me to turn it off?" he asked, grinning wildly.

"Come here, you mad man," Chris said fondly, pulling him over for a kiss, getting foam all over his face. It was nice to feel Tom against him, so slippery and wet. They had not done this before, bathing together, and the foam bath that Tom had used left a moisturizing film on their skins that made touching him even more interesting. They kissed merrily in an ever-growing fortress of foam until they both dissolved in giggles and Tom turned the jets off after all.

"I love you, Chris," Tom said fondly as he drew him into his arms and settled them both against the head side of the tub.

Chris snuggled against his boyfriend's shoulder, happy to just float in the warm water, pressed against Tom's side, the crinkling of the reducing bubbles their soundtrack, candles their only illumination. Tom was right, this was the end of a very long, strenuous day at the end of a long, hard week, and he felt exhaustion settle over him like a blanket. "This is nice," he murmured.

"Uh-huh." Tom played with his hair, his eyes half-closed. "Want to have ice-cream in front of the TV later?" he asked. "You can pick the movie."

Chris lifted his head. "That has about nothing to do with the original plans we had for this night," he remarked.

He felt Tom sigh and looked up at him. Here was his man, his best friend, his lover, the man he intended to spend the rest of his life with because it just fit. And he gave him a look of patient love, stroked his hair and kissed his brow.

"I'm not sure what I can say right now that is right," Tom said. "And I'm so tired, Chris."

"I don't want to let them win," Chris said quietly.

"Hm?"

"Those... hatemongers," Chris said.

"And you think if we don't make love that way right now, they win?" Tom raised a compassionate brow at him. "Chris."

"I just feel like such an idiot."

"Stop putting yourself under such pressure," Tom quietly insisted. "Stop, Chris. It'll happen when it happens, when we both feel it's the right time."

"I'm just so angry," Chris said. "It's like someone..."

"You can say who it was," Tom said quietly.

"I hate the way Evie and your Mom reacted," Chris said with quiet insistence. "So nice, for years, pretending they love you, pretending they like me... and then... this. They make me feel dirty for loving you and I hate them for it. I want to make such spectacular love with you that I just can't hear anymore what they said. And here I am, completely clenched up and I hate everything right now. We have so little time together and I hate having to waste it on other people's hatred and bigotry. I don't want to have to deal with it and they insist, insist on passing their hatred on, and that just galls me. It's not fair. How can they not see how beautiful this is?" He furrowed his brow.

"Precious and sacred," Tom murmured.

"Hm?"

"What you said to your mom," Tom reiterated. "Earlier on the phone. You said what we had was precious and sacred."

"Well, it is," Chris insisted. He floated to lie on top of Tom, his hands stacked on his slender chest, resting his chin on them. "Tom, you mean the world to me."

"Tell me what precious and sacred means to you," Tom asked. "Hm?" He reached out to twirl a strand of Chris' hair around his finger. "What do you mean when you say what we have is beautiful?"

"I love you," Chris insisted, his brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words. "But it's not the way I loved Elsa. I loved her... I guess like a man would, taking care of her, being happy if I could make her happy, being amazed that two people who are so different can even come together like this. Always chasing after a connection. With you... you fill me, Tom."

Tom didn't say anything, just kept stroking his hair, listening.

"When we're together, I feel whole, and right. You love me... for me. You know me so well, and the way you love me makes me so proud."

"I feel the same way," Tom said quietly.

"And then sometimes, when we talk, or even when we fight, or make love... I know that may sound silly, but it feels like something else is happening, something bigger. I never thought I could love so... much, and yet it's completely effortless and all-encompassing. Because you love me, I can love the world. I don't know how to describe it. You give me so much..." He laughed softly. "Oh, this is going to sound so silly, but sometimes it feels as if you're making me shine like the sun."

"Oh, Chris."

"You bring out the best in me, Tom. I'm getting to know sides of me I had no idea were even there. It's like I'm getting to know myself again through your eyes and... I can love myself better because of you. And I can dare trying things that I never dared trying. You help me make myself more complete, and I can't wait for the rest of my life with you. No, don't cry again, Tom."

"It's good crying," Tom assured him, making no attempt to wipe away the tears.

"And when people like your Mum or Evie go on a rant like this, I just want to tell them, how dare you? _How dare you?_ I don't know how they can claim they ever loved you when now that you're coming into your own, they're going so completely off the rail. I have no understanding for this, and I don't want to understand it, either."

Tom nodded, still in tears.

"Your dad is a completely different thing, I want to tear him to shreds for hurting you like that and if it was up to me, he'd never set a foot in this house again," Chris said. "How dare he hurt you like this? And on a very personal level, how did he dare take you away from me when I could've had you so long ago? Why on earth is your whole family so concerned with making you into something you're not?"

"Except for Sannah," Tom said.

"Yeah, except for your exiled sister who has also been pounded on for being different. Oh, Tom, it just makes me mad. This is not what family is supposed to be about."

"No." Tom was completely choked up by now.

"I want to love you the way you deserve, Tom. I want to tell you how wonderful and amazing you are and how much I love all those little things."

"You do." Tom looked heartbroken. "You do, Chris."

"And how you keep on giving and loving when by all rights you wouldn't have anything left to give."

"I've got you," Tom said, his voice very tiny. "I am so very glad I've got you now."

" _This_ is what our love is all about," Chris said. "How can they not see it?"

"But _I do_ ," Tom insisted. "I do see it, Chris."

"I don't know how to deal with seeing someone I love being hurt like this," Chris said. "It breaks my heart." He looked into Tom's eyes and could see that Tom was lost on that question, and that was okay. "I just need you to know," he said, running a hand through Tom's wet hair. "You're not alone. And I'll figure it out."

"That is a good thing because I don't know how to deal with someone being so distraught on my behalf," Tom said. "It hurts me that it hurts you, more than it hurts me, if you know what I mean."

Chris shook his head.

"I mean, it's horrible that they turn my worst fears about their reaction into reality, but I've never had any illusions about it all, you know? I would've just never chosen to face that on my own. I didn't want you to have to face it, and I'm still angry that I blundered into that one. But here we are, and amidst all that brouhaha we're building a life together, Chris. I feel like they can rant and rave, and it can't touch me at the moment. Like I'm behind a shield, a glass wall. I watch them do their thing, but here we are at the end of it, with friends who support us, family who support us, a nursery upstairs and you and me intact. What they do, what they're upset about, has no more impact on my life, because I'm not here to please them any more. I'm here to please me."

"Oh." That was an interesting new take. Chris rested his chin on his hands to listen.

"You put my heart at rest, Chris," Tom said. "When I'm with you, I can just breathe. Everything is perfectly still, and I'm in perfect balance. I don't have to think about doing anything, I just do it. I don't have to worry, I don't know fear, it's all perfectly clear. I don't have to force myself to do anything, it just comes to me, and then I move on it. Sweetheart." He let his long fingers run along Chris' jaw. "Don't let them come at me through you."

Chris blinked.

"If they rile you up on my behalf, they reach me that way, Chris. Because as little as I care about their temper tantrums right now, as much do I care about seeing you whole and happy." His thumb brushed over Chris' lower lip. "Don't let them hurt you. I'm here to protect you. There is nothing to fear."

"You're a fucking saint," Chris said, but he said it with admiration and slid up to kiss him.

"You give me the freedom to not try and please everyone," Tom said. "You know what a relief that is?"

Chris smiled, bracing his hands on the handles that were mounted just above Tom's head, using them to pull himself tightly against his lover. "I happen to love that person that's slowly coming out," Chris said. "In more than one way."

"Uh-huh." Tom's hands slipped lower, tracing over the back of his thighs, making him shiver. "I think I'm getting to a point where I'm really coming into my own, Chris," he said. "I find myself starting to settle down and think about interior decorating." He smiled, his nose crinkling adorably. "Not many loose bits left."

"Hmm." Chris felt himself go hard at Tom's gentle but insistent ministrations, his lover's fingers stroking languidly along the back of his thighs, drifting inwards bit by bit. He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes.

"Is that good?" Tom asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes." He pulled himself further up, his head level with Tom's, to give Tom's hands better access. His cock slid along Tom's, and when they both moaned and strained into the contact, he picked up a very slow, languid rhythm, more meant to cement their connection than to arouse.

"It feels so good to be here with you," Tom said in that same low, intimate voice. "You're the love of my life, Chris."

Chris inhaled and contracted his pelvis, moving against his lover. It was slow and hypnotic, and he began to notice that he timed his thrusts with their breaths, which were perfectly in sync. Wherever that place of total stillness and balance was for Tom, he was sharing it with Chris right now, and it felt absolutely amazing. Chris felt his worry drop away, concentrating solely on the sound of Tom's breath, on the way it felt to glide against him, the way he slowly stroked him to full arousal. "God, I love you so much," he expelled. "Tom."

"Yes." Tom's fingertips were drawing maddening circles on the inside of Chris' thighs, and he spread them to give him better access. He was rewarded by a pair of fingers beginning to stroke slowly but very insistently against his perineum, massaging it gently but insistently until his eyes opened with surprise at a particularly good spot, and he went "Oh."

"Good oh?" Tom asked, very quietly amused.

"Yeah..." Chris felt the very unmanly urge to giggle. "God, really good, Tom..." He gulped. "Fuck." He pressed his cock against Tom's. "Hmmm."

"Let's be completely unimaginative here," Tom proposed in a soothing voice. "Green when you want me to go and try something new, yellow when you want me to stay where I am, red if I'm to go back to the last comfortable thing. Stop if I'm to stop."

"Okay," Chris strained. He felt Tom's touch slide lower, to his balls, and starting to tickle him gently. He grinned. "Red, Tom."

Tom raised a brow at him. "So that works."

"Hm. Keep it up, Tom. If I was a woman I'd be sopping wet about now."

"Is that so." Tom laughed softly. "That would certainly solve the lubrication problem."

"Oh." He hadn't thought about that. Conventional lube was not really working in water because it would immediately wash away.

"I borrowed some of India's baby oil," Tom admitted, indicating the tub rim to his right with his eyes. "I don't want to irritate you with some of the additives to the massage oils we used."

"Don't tell Elsa," Chris cautioned, immensely amused.

"No." Tom grinned. "Didn't mean to. You want to try it?"

Chris swallowed.

"Just the way you did with me this afternoon, Chris. Nothing more. I've never touched you like that. I would love to know if it brings you similar pleasure."

"Yes, that would be okay," Chris said. "Would that be green?"

"Uh-huh. Hand me the bottle, will you?" 

Chris did, and found himself inhaling with happiness at Tom's gentle look when he received it.

"Now butt up, darling." Tom's eyes twinkled with gentle mischief.

Chris lifted his hips as requested, having been only half underwater as it was. He felt Tom's hands, and the cool tip of the bottle, and then a small amount of oil ran into his crack. He hissed with arousal, not having expected how fantastic it would feel. "Green," he croaked. "Green, please." Tom's cool, dexterous fingertips slid into his crack and gently brushed over his hole. "Oh my god," he expelled. "Oh. My. God." He pressed his cock against Tom's in reaction. "No, not god. Loki. This is definitely fucking Loki."

"That good?"

"Yessss. Ooohhh..." His nostrils flared. "I... goddammit... I had no idea... green, Tom. Green."

"Shh," Tom soothed. "Slowly, Chris. Go slow."

Chris bit his lower lip, shaking his head. The sensations from rubbing his slick cock against an equally slick Tom on one side, and having him ministrate his extremely sensitive hole and perineum on the other threatened to short out his pleasure center right then and there. He wanted to come, relieve the pressure to a manageable level.

"I think," he panted, licking his lips. "Tom, this feels so fucking good that I think it would be a good idea to add just a little bit of discomfort. Please try. Just one finger. Please."

"Okay." Tom slid up, gathering a little more oil, and then rubbed gently but insistently against the ring of muscles closing Chris' anus.

"Please," Chris strained and then felt Tom slip in, just to the first digit. "More. Green, Tom, green."

Tom chuckled under his breath, and Chris felt his cock press up, looking for traction. So it did arouse him, too. Chris felt him go deeper, an indescribable sensation, and he bore down on that one finger, wanting to feel him as deeply as possible. "Green, Tom."

"God." Tom slowly slid his finger in and out, picking up a slow but deep rhythm. "Hm..." he hummed. "That feels really interesting in there."

"Hm?" Chris was so focused on the pleasure in that unexpected place, he had a bit of a hard time concentrating on Tom's words.

"There's this really tight ring right there, but either the oil is working really well or you really want this to happen, because I can't find a lot of that resistance all those websites talked about."

"Trust me," Chris said. "I really want this."

Tom laughed gently. "One more, Chris?"

"Yes, please," Chris said. "Green. Oh my fucking god." He threw his head back and cried out at the feeling of two fingers penetrating him. Tom's cock was rubbing with some pressure at his own now, and Tom timed his thrusts so both would happen at the same time, his hips pressing up, his fingers pushing in.

"Sweetheart, you're not supposed to be that aroused," Tom chided gently. "I can't even reach your prostrate this way."

"Green," Chris choked. "One more, brother."

Tom laughed, but obliged. This time, for the first time, there was traction; he could feel Tom's skin rub against his insides. He could feel it, but it wasn't unpleasant, rather a reminder that this was really happening. He furrowed his brow, bearing down on Tom's fingers, then slid forward against Tom's cock. He gasped, and bore down again, unable to decide which sensation was more delicious.

"Tom, I'm going to come," he said quietly. "Yellow."

"I'm here," Tom soothed. "It's okay."

Chris bore down again, feeling Tom reaching deep, pressed up, sliding against his cock, feeling the familiar, coiling sensation in his lower belly. "Can you please cup my balls," he choked out. Tom immediately obliged, closing his other hand gently but firmly around Chris' scrotum, and Chris exhaled, sliding forward against Tom's cock, and came. Crouched over Tom's form, half immersed in water, he spilled his seed against Tom's stomach, bracing himself against the handholds over Tom's head, completely giving himself over to the sensation of his orgasm crashing over him. It was an odd sensation, the orgasm originating from much further within than it usually did, pulsing out his sperm from very deep. He stayed in place, panting, when his seed was spilled, hanging on to the handles.

"You're shaking, love," he heard Tom's soothing voice. "Can I slip out?"

Chris nodded. "Hmm. Green." He lifted up a little and helped Tom by pushing him out, feeling a little empty now, Tom's fingers leaving behind the curious sensation of having been touched in a very intimate place.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Tom asked.

"Yeah. Yeah," Chris croaked. "Give me a moment." And when Tom's hand came to rest on his sides, "No. Please don't touch me. Too much."

Tom let his hands fall into the water, watching him carefully while Chris was trying to deal with all the new sensations cursing through his body. After a while, the intensity weaned and subsided, though he could still feel Tom's fingers inside of him, which was both confusing and incredibly arousing at the same time.

"Wow," he finally said. "That was not what I expected."

"Good or bad?" Tom asked.

"Definitely good," Chris nodded. "But very... intrusive. And that's not a bad thing. I really wanted you there." He shivered. "Confusing to have someone touch you there but oh so good. I think my synapses don't know which code to fire on."

Tom chuckled softly. "You seemed to enjoy yourself," he said modestly.

"Is that your way of saying begged you shamelessly for more?" Chris asked.

"Your words, not mine." Tom smiled and let his hand run down Chris' chest. 

His touch was welcome again. Chris pressed into it. "I want to do it again."

"You just came," Tom objected.

"You didn't." Chris let his fingertips run along Tom's very hard, erect cock. "You need it, love."

"You keep telling me that, lover. I think you enjoy making me come a little too much," Tom teased.

"Just the right amount," Chris said, but when he moved to wrap his hand around Tom's cock, Tom stalled him. "No?"

Tom licked his lips. "Are you... serious about wanting to do it again?" he asked, voice very careful.

Chris nodded. "Yes."

"Because I am dying to be inside of you," Tom expelled, his voice dripping with need. "Please let me take you, Chris. Please... let me come inside of you."

"Fuck." The wave of arousal that Tom's words caused slammed through Chris completely unexpectedly. "Definitely Loki'd. Good lord." He panted. "Here? Now?"

"In our bed," Tom said, and Chris could see how much he strained to keep control of himself. There was no question that Tom had wanted him before, but the way he looked at him right now was nothing compared to that.

Chris licked his lips, feeling his cock stir once more. He'd been the one to say before how much he enjoyed being taken completely apart by Tom. Here was a man who wanted nothing more than do that, he could just see it in his eyes, feel it in the faint tensing and trembling of the lean body under his. He knew Tom wouldn't press on, solely on the grounds that he'd been so hesitant before, and did not want to push him into something he wouldn't want. Chris cocked his head and said: "Yellow."

"I can tell you more?" Tom asked.

Chris nodded, sure that Tom could feel the thudding of his heart under his hand.

"I would rather show you." Tom's voice almost gave out and he swallowed. He was as scared, aroused and overwhelmed as Chris was.

Chris sat up and helped Tom to a seating position, as well. 

"Show me, then."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom had the hardest time not to go out of his mind. His brain was overstimulated, over-aroused, and kept supplying him with images of a writhing Chris under him, impaled on his cock. He just wanted to go for it, but he knew Chris was still hesitant to a degree, still afraid he would be hurt in the process, as enjoyable as he had found their little escapade in the tub. If Tom went full-out with his desires, he might scare him off, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he was hardly capable of speaking any more; he knew he wouldn't be able to soothe Chris with words.

He carefully toweled Chris dry, dragging the fabric over his muscled shoulders, letting his lips and tongue follow, slid the towel down over his deliciously tapered hips and his perfect ass, always his mouth and tongue in the wake of his hands. He got to his knees, kissing and biting his way down one leg, then the other, sucking at the back of Chris' knees, then crawled around him and started licking and sucking at the inside of his ankles, the towel going up to dry him up to his hips, and Tom's mouth following along the inside of his thighs.

Chris' breath came in short gasps when Tom got to his knees, face-to-face with his hot, hard cock. Tom looked up at his man, a slow smile forming on his face, until he got a smile back from Chris. He nudged Chris' hand until it stroked him, smoothing his face into it until Chris exhaled and relaxed a bit, just to then transfer his lips and tongue to the gorgeous, delicious v-line leading down to Chris' proud cock.

"Tom, you're driving me crazy," Chris moaned, and cried out when Tom gently nibbled along the rim of his cock's head.

Tom let the towel slide gently between Chris' legs, making him spread them, drying him very carefully while enjoying the silken, vulnerable taste of Chris' cock on his tongue. He didn't want him to come a second time, not so soon, but he loved running the tip of his tongue over where his foreskin was attached and up into his slit until he was rewarded with the salty bitter taste of his precome. He loved going down on Chris, feeling him come into his mouth, and had not had his heart's desire for too long, and for a very long moment he was sorely tempted to just go for it, to quench some of his thirst right here, right now. His eyes met Chris', who threaded his fingers through his hair, neither encouraging nor discouraging, just sharing this moment of intimate connection with him.

He reviewed the plans he had for Chris in his head, weighing the pros and cons of sucking him dry right here and now with the possible consequences. He closed his eyes and wrapped his hand around the base of Chris' cock, stroking him languidly, rewarded with another bead of precome. He kept it on his tongue and got to his feet, sliding his whole body against Chris' still wet torso, and kissed him deeply, sharing his taste with him. Chris' arms slid around him, his fingernails digging into his back as he crushed him against his body, holding him tight as they kissed.

"Green," Chris gasped. "Green, Tom."

"Sweetheart, you have no idea what I'm going to do with you."

"You're amazing." Chris trembled. "You're so amazing."

"I want to do everything at once," Tom confided. "My head is filled with ways of making you come undone."

Chris shivered. "Green, green, green, green, green," he whispered.

Tom laughed softly. "Darling, how many times do you think you can come until you cry _No more_?"

It took Chris a moment until he realized that it was a genuine question, then he blushed furiously. "You make me so hard so fast," he whispered. "But it didn't feel like I would come really soon when you just did that. Not that it wasn't hot..."

"I get it." Tom smiled. "That's good. I get to play a little with you, then."

Chris swallowed. "Green," he murmured demurely.

"Oh, sweetheart." Tom kissed him. "Let me take care of your tender heart." He let his lips brush over Chris' until the other man responded, and they kissed gently, allowing both their heartbeats to calm down, to just hold each other and be together.

Tom knew it wouldn't last long.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom's hands were so warm when they slathered him with oil, sliding between his legs, cupping his balls, then working their way around to the other side. Chris' heart beat in his throat, he felt like his hair was standing on end from the waves of arousal that kept washing over him, his mouth dry. He watched Tom drip some of the oil in his hand and wrap it around his own cock, biting his lower lip as he spread it over his length.

Chris didn't even have enough spit left to ask Tom if he could do it, and when Tom stepped closer and slid the tip of his length between his legs, all he could do was moan helplessly. Tom adjusted his angle and pushed in until he was buried between Chris's legs, and they both just stood for a moment, feeling each other, trembling.

"Could you," Tom choked out. "Could you please put some of this on me?"

Chris nodded and held out a hand, receiving a little of the oil, warming in between his hands, and slowly started to spread it over Tom's back. Tom let his forehead fall to his shoulder and slowly moved in and out of him while he worked the oil into his skin, the friction delicious and completely maddening. He pressed his legs together, giving Tom a tighter space to work with, and was rewarded with a hitched groan from his partner.

"Chris," Tom croaked, and made him look at him. "Love."

"Hm?" Chris kissed him, his hands still generously roaming over Tom's buttocks, pulling him in.

"I... want to try something. No penetration yet, don't worry."

"Okay." He felt himself contract at the mere mention of penetration.

"Sweetheart, lean over the bed."

Chris blinked. "What?"

"Turn around, my love." He felt Tom's cock slipping out, and felt angry at the loss. "Turn around, darling."

Chris swallowed, but did as he was bid. He was now facing their bed, and Tom moved to stand behind him, his hands on his hips.

"Let me take you from behind," Tom whispered, his talented hands sliding across his pelvis, and canting him backwards to give him better access.

"Tom, stop." Chris threaded Tom's hands with his own and pulled them across is torso.

Tom cuddled into him, smoothing his face against Chris', and they just stood there for a moment.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tom finally asked.

"It doesn't feel good," Chris said.

"Okay. I'm sorry." Tom kissed his shoulder.

"Can we just lie on the bed together for a moment?" Chris asked.

"Of course." Tom released him, and Chris crawled onto the bed, aware that Tom followed closely, but then sat down beside him instead of crawling under the sheet with him. "What is it, Chris?"

"Come under here with me," Chris said, lifting the edge of the sheet. Tom did, and feeling his erection against him sent a shiver through Chris. He still wanted him, very much so.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Tom was now seriously concerned.

"I'm getting in over my head," Chris admitted. "I want to make love with you, but all these new things are getting too much. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Tom said. His eyes were searching his face, trying to read him.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Tom leaned in and kissed him gently.

Chris exhaled and lay on his side, and then found himself pulled into Tom's embrace, and cuddled into his shoulder. Tom cradled his head and kissed his hair, and rocked him, and Chris just inhaled his scent deeply, holding on to him for dear life.

For a long while, neither of them spoke, and the crackling arousal that had surrounded them for a while began to dissipate, making Chris feel as if he was suddenly capable of breathing freely again.

"You were right," he finally murmured.

"Hm?"

"About things being different when you can suddenly have them... I'm completely in over my head."

"That's okay, Chris. I told you before, there is no pressure, and if you decide you've changed your mind, that's fine, too."

"I'm not sure about that," Chris said. "Just that it's too much for today."

Tom kissed his forehead and stroked soothingly over his back.

"You were so eager to..." Chris said haltingly. "Are you okay with not...?"

"Chris, if you don't enjoy it, I don't enjoy it," Tom said very clearly. "There is no middle ground. It's my worst nightmare for you to try and accommodate me when it's something you feel uncomfortable with."

"I think it kind of throws me for a loop that you suddenly want it so much," Chris admitted, feeling a bit chagrined.

Tom chuckled. "That's funny."

"I know. I'm an idiot."

"No. You feel how you feel."

"It was easier when you weren't so convinced... I knew we'd go really slow, if at all, and it wouldn't happen all at once, if at all. And now everything's such a rush... I wasn't prepared for that."

"Chris." Tom made him look up by hooking a finger under his chin. They looked at each other, blue eyes crossing, until Tom smiled, and Chris had no choice but to smile back. "Here's what I'm proposing."

"Yes?"

"It's off the table again."

"That's not really what I want, either," Chris mewled. "Just not so fast."

"It's throwing everything out of whack," Tom said clearly. "It does. I've done nothing but fantasize about taking you for most of the night, and my desire is just too much to handle for you at the moment."

"No! Oh god, no." Chris suddenly felt ashamed, his cheeks flaming. "Oh god, that is horrible, that's not it at all."

"It's been the big question in the room since we hung up with your mom, Chris. I don't know right now how to get a balance between you telling me you want this to happen so badly, and me wanting it too badly."

"I want to make love _with_ you not being made love to," Chris said. "You're not telling me what you want and it makes me nervous. You turn my face away from you and I have no chance of making eye contact to make sure everything is okay."

"All of which was okay if it wasn't about penetrating you," Tom said, suddenly upset. "You've had me from behind, I've had you like that, it wasn't a problem. This isn't about you and me, it's about a very intrusive act that we're just not ready for yet." He shook his head, biting his lip. "I don't want to fight with you over this, Chris. If it means we're fighting instead of giving each other comfort and love, it's simply not worth it." He could see that Tom's eyes filled with tears. "Excuse me."

Chris felt him scoot out of the embrace, but he held him. "Don't go, Tom."

"I'm just done," Tom said, and suddenly it just all spilled out. "I'm done. I'm trying to balance everything, balance you and Elsa, balance my stupid sister, balance my mum, balance having Luke and Steve in the house when all I want is be with me, and maybe you, balance having my father come in to relieve his conscience, balance you wanting to make love with me that way even though you know I don't feel comfortable with it, and trying to give you as much as I possibly can. Balance you begging me to penetrate you with not doing it well enough, I'm done. I'm done, Chris. I have a breaking point. I've just reached it."

Chris was just gobsmacked.

"Why were other people putting up India's nursery, and not the two of us, Chris? Why did we even open the door for my father? And why is the room I make for everyone in my life never enough and everyone is grabbing for more?"

"Tom!"

"I'm trying so fucking hard," Tom said. "I'm done. I'm just out of everything right now. I have nothing left to give today."

Chris simply pulled him into a hug, and he didn't let go, no matter how hard Tom struggled, until he went limp and just cried his eyes out against his shoulder. It wasn't a silent crying, either, Tom was incredibly upset, the whole day suddenly crashing over his head. Chris found himself crying with him, silently, his heart hurting for Tom, for himself, for knowing that his attempts at fixing everything for Tom, and making things easier for him, but on his terms, not on Tom's, were majorly responsible for the love of his life now having a mental breakdown like that in his arms. Add to that that he had really been pushing him to make love with him in a way that he knew Tom was incredibly uncomfortable with, and he could clearly see where he had gone way too far, stacked one thing for Tom to handle upon the other, and his family going completely crazy on him did not help one bit, either.

There was nothing to do than deal with it now, and try to do better tomorrow. The day was done, finished, over, and that was a good thing.

Slowly, Tom's tearful wails subsided to simple sobbing and sniffing, and Chris reached over his lover's head and got a handkerchief for him, which he used thoroughly, and then another. Tom had cried so hard that he was still hiccuping into his shoulder. Chris got rid of the used tissues by snicking them out of bed to be collected tomorrow, and placed a kiss on Tom's hot brow. He felt Tom's arm contract around him.

"Do you want to be alone?" he asked carefully. "I could sleep on the sofa, love, it's okay."

Tom shook his head. "No."

"I love you so much, my heart." 

"I love you, too." Tom blinked at him from red-rimmed eyes. "Can I get some hot coco and flannel pjs?"

Chris laughed softly. "Oh, Tom."

"Please?"

"With marshmallows or without?" Chris asked.

"I'd like a spoonful of honey and some biscuits," Tom said.

"Okay, honey." Chris kissed his forehead again. "Don't go anywhere."


	21. What You Wish For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shared cup of hot coco and adorable flannel pjs lead to exploration of another kind.

Tom joined him in the kitchen not too much later. He had on a pair of adorable checkered flannel pajamas that were too long even for his limbs, and stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"Can I be here with you?" he asked.

"Sure." Chris was so tired by now. He'd slipped into a pair of comfortable boxers and a cozy morning robe, if only to forget that he was still prepared to be made love to. He didn't know really what to think about all that; one moment he'd been so aroused he felt that he needed to jump out of his skin, and now here he was, making hot chocolate milk for the man who had wanted to take him so badly. He felt stupid and exhausted and at the end of his wits.

"Chris, I'm sorry." Tom was shifting from one foot to the other.

Chris gave him a look, he just didn't know what to say any more.

"I'm sorry I flew off the handle like that. It was unfair. I know you've been working so hard to make everything okay for me today. I want you to know I really appreciate what you're doing for me. I don't take it for granted."

"Sit down," Chris said. It came out a little more gruffly than he had intended, but Tom just slipped onto the bench quietly, his hands disappearing in the super long arms of his shirt. He looked about twelve. Chris felt his heart melt at the sight and sighed deeply. He was so without any chance whatsoever, it wasn't even funny any more.

The microwave signaled that it was ready and Chris retrieved two mugs; one for Tom, the other for himself. He added a spoonful of honey to Tom's mug and a handful of marshmallows to his own, then raided the pantry for a few sweets and finally put everything on the table and sat down opposite Tom.

Tom fished for his mug and gave him a look, clearly not quite sure how things were between them right now. Chris didn't have an answer and absent-mindedly stirred his milk, finding his leg searching for Tom's, and himself smiling when their calves brushed against each other, and stayed in contact under the table.

They sipped their milk in silence, stealing sweets off the plate between them and nibbling them, and then Tom's hand brushed against Chris' as they reached for the same piece of chocolate, and somehow their fingers meshed and stayed like that.

"I'm sorry about India's nursery," Chris said at length. "I'd really thought we would at least build the cot together, that's why I took it with us in flat packs. But with your father suddenly bursting in, I forgot to tell Luke and Steve and when I came upstairs they had already had it built and were just putting the mattress in. It was just too late. I'm sorry, too. I would've loved to do that with you."

"Should we not leave a couple of gay men with the interior decorating the next time?" Tom asked. "We should have known better."

"Come on, they're not that much of a cliché," Chris protested.

"I was trying to make a joke."

"I know." Chris pulled Tom's hand over and placed a kiss on it, then meshed it once more with his own. "I'm sorry. I'm exhausted, too. And sad about the same thing. When we first planned the nursery in our house in L.A., I had absolutely nothing to do with it. Elsa met with an interior decorator, there were strange men going in and out of my house for three days, and poof, fairy princess bedroom. I felt like having to tiptoe through that one ever since."

"Not really your style," Tom said.

"No."

"I liked going baby shopping with you today," Tom said.

"I was so worried about you I hardly got to enjoy it," Chris replied.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault, Tom." Chris reached for another biscuit. "I'd have been the same way if my family had suddenly decided to go crazy on me."

"I still feel guilty about ruining our day," Tom said. "You've tried so hard to make it special, and I keep ruining stuff by going catatonic."

Chris chewed, taking his time for an answer. "It's scary to see from the outside," he finally said. "It's like you suddenly disappear and someone else takes your place. That's what makes it so tough to deal with."

"I didn't know it looks that way from the outside." Tom frowned. "It feels as if my throat closes and I can't speak another word because there is so much going on in here." He tapped his heart. "I guess I'm just switching to a different mode then – I try to function somehow. Give the outside world something to talk with while I'm trying to figure it out in here."

Chris narrowed his eyes at him. "It's scary."

"Hm." Tom took another sip of his milk.

"While we're at it, I'm sorry I just invited Steve and Luke without asking you first," he apologized.

"I know you needed company...."

"We live here together, and I can't just assume that my needs trump yours," Chris said. "I realized my mistake fairly shortly after, but then you kept insisting it was okay."

"I know. I know you needed them."

"I would've needed you, but I didn't know where to find you while you were... gone," Chris said. "I'm sorry if that sounds like I'm assigning blame, I'm not. I just want to explain how I got to my error in judgment."

"But it turned out fine," Tom protested.

"You just yelled at me that you'd rather have had some time to yourself, and I totally get that," Chris pointed out. "I really do. It wasn't my smartest move, and I'm sorry, okay?"

"I also yelled at you for opening the door to my dad, and that was clearly not okay, either. You had no idea..."

"I could've asked you if it was okay to let him in."

"It was my father!"

"On a day like today? I should've asked." Chris blew out a self-deprecating breath. "Fact is, I assume too much, and I ask you too little, or listen to you too little. My needs trump yours a lot of the time, and that's not okay."

"You're right, it isn't." It smarted a bit when Tom agreed with him. "Then again, I keep telling you it's okay, and try to accommodate you, because I just love you so much and want you to be happy with me."

"I am happy with you," Chris said.

"But we do have different needs at different times, and especially when things get dicey," Tom pointed out.

"Shouldn't prevent me from asking you what you need when you're not okay," Chris said. "Because obviously, I often don't know. I could just open my mouth and ask."

"You're right, you could." But Tom didn't look to happy about it. "But I don't want you to have to."

"Why?"

"I could just try and be just a little less complicated."

At that, Chris laughed out loud. "No. It doesn't work that way. That way, shit gets buried deeper and deeper, Tom. You need to be aware of what you need. That way you have an answer when I ask you."

"And what if it's something you don't want to do?" Tom crossed his arms, huffing.

"Then we'll find a compromise. Or we'll do what you want first, and what I want, later. Doing what I want as a prerogative is not how it's going to work," Chris said clearly.

Tom was clearly pouting.

"While we're at being honest, do you really want to make love to me by penetrating me?" Chris asked, brow stormy.

"Yes, dammit."

"Since when?"

"This evening, when I was cleaning up from what we did in the kitchen," Tom said.

"What changed?" Chris leaned forward on his arms. "When we talked about it this morning, it was not your favorite topic."

Tom swallowed. "I don't know," he said. "It suddenly seemed like a good idea."

"After I've been at you about it all day?" Chris said. "It's clear it's never going to be an option for you."

"It's just not..."

"And that's fine, Tom. It's fine." He grasped both of Tom's hands.

"I wish I could."

"I know." Chris had heard enough. He got up, switched sides, and pulled Tom into a hug.

"I wish I could give this to you, Chris."

"I know, sweetheart." He kissed Tom's hair. "I know that." He rocked them, Tom's slender figure in his left arm. "But I've got to say I got an idea of how difficult it is for you tonight, okay?"

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's not a nice feeling to think you're rushed into something you're not ready for. And no, not your problem, either. You are totally right, I've been begging for it for a while, and again tonight, in the hallway, and even in the tub... and then I chicken out in the last minute. I feel a bit foolish, too."

"Don't." Tom meshed their hands. "It's always okay for me even when you change your mind. I want you to be comfortable, and I'm sorry when I couldn't manage to make you feel that way."

"What did you have in mind?" Chris asked, curious.

"Umm...." Tom blushed fiercely. "It would be better in the execution."

Chris just shrugged, indicating that he was listening.

"I really needed to come," Tom confided. "Before I would do anything to you, because I just know... being inside of you, I won't last a second otherwise."

That actually made Chris smile.

"Yes, um... I wanted to come on you so I could use the come as lube. The idea was to get us both ready for a second round by... lubing you with my sperm."

"That is..." Chris swallowed. "Wow."

"Yeah." Tom shrugged modestly.

"And then?" Chris scooted a little closer so he could hear him better.

"I wanted to prop you up and then take you very slowly, missionary style," Tom confided. "So I could exactly see how it would feel for you. I know I'm really big and the last thing I want to do is hurt you, Chris. I wanted to be able to stop if I saw you were not comfortable."

"I should have known better." Chris felt a good bit foolish.

"No, no. You were uncomfortable and told me, and that's really fine with me," Tom said. "We can do it another time, or if you decide against it, we just won't. Both is fine with me. I've been very happy with the way we've been making love."

"Me, too," Chris said. "It seems really foolish in retrospect to want to have changed anything."

"You, mister, enjoyed that bit of penetration tonight very, very much," Tom teased him gently.

"Eh." Chris felt himself blush. "But I'm not sure all that preparation was worth it, Tom."

"I would still like to make love to you that way," Tom said softly. "When you're ready."

Chris felt a shiver run down his spine and ducked is head. "Why?"

Tom took his time with the answer. "Because I feel that we have the kind of love that needs it," he said. "It's really hard to explain, but sometimes it feels as if we're incredibly, incredibly close, and having a way to celebrate that with our bodies would be... extraordinary."

Chris drew him closer and linked their hands, turning his head to nuzzle against Tom's face. "It would."

"I want to be with you," Tom whispered. "I want what you said this morning, that connection, being with you so deeply, I want that. And I am sorry I'm not able to give it to you the way you'd like to, with you inside of me. I can only do it the other way around, but maybe that's not... not really what you want, Chris." His voice broke. "It's all I have."

"Can we maybe try it when we're more real with each other?" Chris asked. "Not spiked on so much arousal that I feel my hair is standing on end and I don't know left from right?"

"Are you telling me I'm too sexy for you?" Tom asked, a note of amusement in his voice.

"That's a given," Chris said, and he couldn't resist to kiss Tom, his lips so soft under his own. They both sighed into the kiss, relieved at the contact. "Tom, I'm scared."

"I know." Tom cupped his face in his hand. "I know, my love."

"It's not just the penetration... well it is. I think I have a confession to make."

"Hm?"

"It's... it scary to give myself up to you that way." Chris exhaled on a heavy breath. "It's scary to let someone else into my body."

"Yeah. It is," Tom said earnestly. "It really is."

"I so admire your ability to give yourself up to me, Tom. You do it all the time. The way I made love to you today, you were so vulnerable. You just gave yourself to me. The thought of lying there on display like that sits not well with me. I want you... but I'm a coward."

"You feel what you feel, Chris."

"I'm not sure I can handle it," Chris finally confessed. "I'm not sure... I'm not just going to explode."

Tom smiled. "Are you afraid of your own passion, Chris?"

"I'm afraid of liking it too much," Chris said. "Kind of what you said... god, it's been only a week. Last Saturday. When I made love to you on the sofa, when you said it felt uncomfortable being... well, not in charge. Unmanly. It does things to my ego." He frowned. "I had no idea I had that ego. And please don't offer not to do it. I want to work through this. I want to know what makes me hesitate."

"Okay."

"It feels demeaning. Out of control. That's a horrible thought. It would mean that every time I made love to my wife she would have felt that way."

"I doubt that," Tom said. "But I have to admit being on the receptive end has made me re-evaluate a lot of my relations with women, too."

"They're tough as nails and incredibly courageous for being so vulnerable with someone with the ability to hurt them so much," Chris said. "We just take it as a matter of fact, it's how nature works. But it's really an incredible act of courage."

"And love and desire, I'm sure," Tom said. "And knowing that you're gentle and kind, Chris."

"It still makes me think," Chris said, shivering.

"There's one other thing I realized last Saturday, while you made love to me that way, Chris," Tom said. "I didn't share it with you, but I realized that whoever is... for lack of a better word... the submissive one, has a lot of power over the other person's lust. You're not just passively lying there."

"There was a lot of talk today about you taking me..." Chris said, playing with Tom's fingers.

"I know. I think that's the kind of talk we should shove for a while, huh? I let my desire speak louder than my love."

"I kept saying it, too." He blinked. "Until it was suddenly real, and then it became really uncomfortable."

"We never really sat down and talked what you wanted. What I wanted. That was pretty stupid. We just kind of wanted it to happen."

"That worked pretty well for us, so far," Chris said.

"Hm. It did. Maybe we should talk more about that, too."

"Maybe." Chris felt a shiver run down his spine. "Would you... still like to try?" he asked, hesitantly.

Tom studied him carefully. "We just talked about being honest with each other, and not trying to accommodate each other," he said.

"Yes."

"Yes, I would really still like to try," Tom said. "But I'm not sure if..." he furrowed his brow. "… if what I feel just thinking about having you... no... making love to you that way... if that isn't too much. If my desire for you isn't too much."

"It really turns you on that much?" Chris asked, both fascinated and a bit nervous.

"Yes, it does." Tom said sincerely.

"Why?"

"I think... I think it really turns me on sexually, for the simple reason that being inside of you would be... oh god. There's a part of me that very much wants to just carnally do that. Have my cock be encased by your body. Feel how tight and hot you are. Feel you writhing under me, begging for more. Knowing that finally, finally, I could quench that thirst you have for me, take you apart the way I know you yearn for. I know there is a part of you that craves having me take over and... well. Make you completely mine."

"What does that make me, Tom?" Chris asked.

"Human," Tom answered. "Loved. Mine? Hm?" He stroked a bit of hair out of Chris' face. "And there is something inside of me that wants just that. Mark you. Make you mine in a way that no one else is allowed to, or could. There's a part of me that wants to... wants to take you so deeply and so many times that there is no room left but for me."

Chris swallowed.

"I think that may have been the reason why I was holding back... one of the reasons. It's like admitting there's a monster living inside of me. It's not pretty. But it feels good to desire you so much. And I do have it on a leash, Chris. There is nothing to fear."

Chris took his hand, kissed his palm, and then put it over his growing erection. "It's certainly having an effect on me."

"Me, too." Tom admitted quietly. "But it isn't the kind of thing you need right now, love."

"I want to learn... how to get there," Chris said. "You're right, I do... crave you. It's hard to admit how much. It's easier to take the lead and please you."

"Uh-huh." He could see in Tom's eyes how much he wanted to kiss him, but he was holding back for his sake, keeping a lid on it.

"Tom, would you... make love with me?" Chris asked. "Make love _with_ me."

There was some insecurity flashing across Tom's face. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure." He kissed Tom's knuckles. "Very sure. Make love with me, Tom. I do need to... feel you more than I'm afraid. Be gentle. It's my first time."

"Chris." Now Tom did kiss him, reverently, deeply, with such feeling. "I'll be all of that and more."

  
  


* * *

  
  


A few moments later, they were back in bed, both men shivering with excitement and a little bit of fear. But it felt better now, more connected. Chris could feel Tom shaking behind him, kissing his shoulder, his erection hot and hard against Chris' back.

"How do you want to do this?" he heard Tom say, and turned around to him.

"I think," Chris said, "I think from behind is really not that bad an idea. I would love to see you, but having you on top of me with my legs spread doesn't feel safe right now."

"Okay." Tom's pupils were completely blown, there was no doubt that he wanted this very, very much. But it didn't scare Chris so much any more.

"And I guess if we did it like this, on our sides face to face, the logistics could get a bit weird." Chris had to laugh.

"Probably."

"Honey, you're as hot for me as a 16-year-old," Chris chuckled. "You should see yourself."

"What a match," Tom said, not denying it. "The 14-year-old virgin and the 16-year-old teen. This can only end in disaster. Oh god." He laughed.

"Do you want me to make you come?" Chris asked. "Take a bit of the pressure off?"

Tom shook his head. "Hey, this way you know it's not going to take long," he said self-deprecatingly. "16-year-olds for the win."

"You never know." Chris had enough of the talking and kissed him, deeply, swallowing Tom's whimper as his body immediately rose against him. He reached down and lead Tom's cock between his legs, and sure enough, Tom moved into him eagerly, biting his lip while letting out a deep groan. It felt really good, familiar, hot. Chris pulled him in and moved against Tom, who cried out with arousal, biting his shoulder, pounding into him. Chris laughed, anchoring his lover by grabbing his butt, and then Tom turned him onto his back, clamping his legs around Chris', and fucked him for good.

Their eyes met; Tom was grinning ferociously, joyously throwing himself into this and Chris found himself more aroused than he had thought possible, his cock throbbing on his stomach, incredibly turned on by the way Tom moved on top of him, grunting with every thrust of his hips, bowing over him to graze a nipple with his teeth, licking along his pecs, his cock hot and hard between his legs, hitting the good spot on his perineum with each thrust.

They both came at the same time, their voices mingling as they cried out. Feeling Tom come between his legs was as maddening as always, and Chris found his own sperm flying, not just covering his, but also Tom's chest.

Tom groaned loudly with each of his pumps of come, moaning them out, really, and then they were done, both panting heavily, Tom crouched over him, chuckling.

"Oh god, I needed that," he laughed. It did sound a little mad. "Thank you."

"Uh-huh." Chris scooped up a fleck of his seed and fed it to Tom. "You were right, I love having you just pound into me like that," he admitted. "It was the penetration part I was shying away from."

"I could've told you that," Tom said, "But showing you was more fun."

"Uh-huh." Chris pulled him down into a kiss. "And now you have two sets of come to work with, one of which is already between my legs.. hmm..."

"God, I love you so much, Chris."

"Show me how much, Tom," Chris said with a failing voice. "Make me yours."

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Dammit, it must be here somewhere."

Chris giggled. "Ah... Tom... oh." He hissed. "That's a good spot."

"Right here?" He felt Tom's fingers searching within him, just two, his lover plastered to his back, one leg between his for better access. He knew Tom's hand must be a mess, covered in come and lube, and he couldn't imagine it was really comfortable holding it at this angle, either.

"Yeah... that... slide back a little... Oh fuck." He bucked backwards into Tom's hand. "Jesus Christ."

"Ding ding ding," Tom said playfully. "You have just won the grand prize." His fingers grazed the same spot again. "There, honey?"

Chris groaned loudly, hoping that would answer his question.

"Oh so good?" Tom asked joyfully.

Chris just nodded. He felt like a Muppet, Tom's hand directing him, stroking that maddening spot inside of him that made him feel like drooling and babbling.

Tom stroked him carefully, until he had found just the right pressure, pleasurable but not making him feel like he was trying to jump out of his skin.

"That feels so good," Chris moaned languidly. "So good, Tom. You have no idea." He felt Tom's hot lips on his shoulder and turned his head to be kissed. "I think," he said languidly, his tongue heavy with pleasure. "I think now would be a good time. I'm definitely not getting any more relaxed than this."

Tom's chuckle sounded a bit choked up. "I need to lube up," he said.

"Let me?" Chris asked.

"I'd have to let you go," Tom said regretfully.

"Uh-huh." Chris kissed him again, then reached forward for the bottles of lube on the beside table, feeling Tom slipping out finally. He also retrieved a few wet wipes and handed them to Tom, then turned his lover on his back and straddled his legs at his knees.

"Where is that going to go?" Tom asked, amused. He wiped his hands and flicked the balled-up wet wipe off the bed, his hands settling on Chris' thighs.

Chris bowed over him, kissing the tip of his cock while making eye contact with his lover.

Tom shivered at the contact, but simply watched him as Chris circled the head of his cock with his tongue and swiped his slit clean of pre-come. His hips started to move into the caress, and Chris couldn't help but lick his length, loving the hot, throbbing, veined feeling on his tongue.

He finally opened the bottle of lube with a snick, very hesitantly leaving his toy with a last, regretful kiss goodbye.

"Cold?" Tom asked, blinking.

"Probably." Chris snaked a long line of lube along Tom's length, and Tom shivered. Chris carefully spread the slippery substance and squirted some more into his hand, slathering Tom's cock from the other side. A last squirt crowned the tip of Tom's cock but immediately started to slide off. They both giggled, and Chris hurried to spread the dollop with his thumb before it could fall off. He leaned forward on one hand, very close to Tom. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Tom smiled. "Oh, yes."

"I would like to try..." Chris said. "From up here."

"Where you have more control?" Tom let a finger run down his jaw.

"Uh-huh."

"Go slowly, sweetheart."

But now that he was here, he didn't worry about it so much any more, he found. He smiled. He was joyful. He was ready.

The first two tries failed dismally, as Tom's slippery cock would always just graze his hole and then slide off. It was a bit frustrating, but then Tom helped, holding his cock in place.

"Just breathe," he said. "Just concentrate on you, love." His other hand skittered along Chris' length. "I've got you."

But it didn't work again, and he started to shake.

"Chris, scoot down a bit, honey. Lean over me," Tom guided him gently. "Place my cock against you, sweetheart." Chris did, shivering. "Okay now, look at me, my heart, come up and kiss me." Chris stretched forward, feeling how his cheeks kept Tom's cock in place. He moaned. It felt incredible. "There you go, honey." Tom's hands settled on his hips and kept him where he was, and then carefully pressed upward. His cock was more in it its normal position, curved towards his chest rather than straight up, and Chris wasn't as tight. He felt the tip of Tom's cock breach him and moaned. "That's it, my love. Go slow. Go slow." Tom pressed upwards more, biting his lip. "Good lord."

Chris furrowed his brow, opening up, pressing back against Tom's cock. "Oooooooohhhh...." He moaned. "Shit. Fuck. Oh my... oh my god." He felt the head of Tom's cock slip past the barrier.

"Shhh. Chris. Honey. Go slow. We've got it."

"Big. Big. You're so big. Fuck. Wow." Chris was heaving to get enough air.

"You're doing great, my love." And then Tom threw his head back and cried out when Chris slowly moved down his length.

Chris chuckled, breathless from all the sensation, from being stretched so wide, from the way Tom's cock moved in him when Tom moved. He leaned forward on his hands and let it slide out a little, then deeper in, sliding it out again, each pass making it easier, but the sensation was indescribable. He closed his eyes and hummed, completely concentrating on Tom's thick, warm length inside of him, filling him so completely, so deliciously. His own cock pulsed, he was incredibly turned on, but in a very deep, profound way. He knew this wasn't the ideal position to stimulate his prostrate, and he wasn't too sad about it, there were already so many sensations to process. He was slowly being filled out by Tom, taking him in. He didn't feel vulnerable any more, he felt... proud. Generous. His heart threatened to overflow with love.

He opened his eyes, meeting Tom's. His lover's eyes were glazed over, his mouth half open as he concentrated solely on the sensations in the lower half of his body.

"How are you?" Chris asked, adjusting his hips to a deeper slide, and he moaned softly.

Tom just looked at him, helpless, shaking his head.

Chris laughed soundlessly, making more space for Tom by slowly sitting up. Tom's hands slid up his thighs, stroking softly over his perineum, the base of his cock, around his balls. When he stroked along the underside of his cock, Chris exhaled and let gravity take its course, seating Tom deep inside of him. They both stilled completely, and their hands entwined.

"Magic," Tom breathed. "Oh god, this is magic."

"Hmm." He contracted his anus around Tom, and his lover cried out in reaction. He leaned back a little more, and then did it again. There was absolutely no sense of vulnerability left. This wasn't demeaning, it was majestic. He had completely misinterpreted what it would mean to have Tom come inside of him. They were one, and he had complete control over each of Tom's reactions, over his passion, over his lust. He could make him come in a few seconds, or he could drag this out until he was sore. After all, the mere thought of coming into him had Tom so aroused that he could hardly control himself. Chris had him in the palm of his hand. He licked his lips.

"I take it it's good for you, too?" Tom said.

Chris wanted to laugh but felt that may trigger things, the delicate balance between his current pleasure and coming too soon. "You have no idea."

Tom smiled. "Can I move?" he asked.

Chris smiled back. "Hm," he said, and leaned forward, Tom's cock shifting inside of him. He kissed Tom, finding his hands caressing his back, stroking him. He lifted up, and Tom moved in, and they started to languidly move against each other, the friction indescribable. Chris' cock slid easily against Tom's stomach while Tom reached deep inside of him, and after ten strokes of this, Chris let himself fall to the side, taking his lover with him.

"Hey," Tom said, not missing a beat. "Where is this going?"

"Can you please be on top of me," Chris mumbled.

"Uh-huh." Tom didn't waste time asking if this was what he really wanted. 

Chris wrapped his legs around Tom's hips and simply let him move, retracting his length in one languid motion, pushing it back in, curling Chris' spine up. His breath shaking, he retreated once more to the tip, then slid back in, filling Chris again. They breathed with the slow motion, inhaled on retraction, exhaled as Tom moved in, the breath of life, of love.

"You fill me so well," Chris found himself saying, half-aware of it, wrapped up in a haze of sensation.

"Hmmmm." Tom hummed. He languidly pushed in and kept Chris curled up, leaning over him to drop kisses along his collar bone. "You have no idea how good you feel."

"Like you thought?" Chris asked, regarding Tom lovingly as he retreated again, and his breath caught.

"So much better." Tom's hip had a tight snap this time, and he let his pelvis roll against Chris, even though he was already tightly seated inside of him. He leaned over him again, kissing along his pecs, licking over his nipples, his pelvis minutely moving his cock inside of Chris.

Chris willfully contracted around him, lifted his pelvis and drew him in with his heels.

Tom groaned, the little beats of his pelvis growing more pronounced. "Do you want to make me come?" he asked, a helpless little smile on his face.

Chris chuckled. "I'm just discovering how much power this gives me," he said, stroking Tom's face. "You so have no chance."

Tom smiled brightly. "I told you. I am completely in the palm of your hand."

"Yes, you are." Chris drew him down for a kiss, canting his hips up, and Tom immediately answered by moving into him faster, his hips snapping forward, into him. "This will be the first time someone will ever come inside of me," Chris whispered. "Make it a good one."

"Chris..."

Chris moved with Tom now, lifting his hips with each thrust to receive him. Tom's hands slipped under his back and lifted his chest to his mouth, then he crawled forward, crouched over Chris, his hips snapping into him, and then slowed down again, going back to a languid beat of in and out, and he kissed him, his tongue deep in Chris' mouth.

"Not long now," Chris panted. "Oh my god, Tom."

"I know." Tom moved in and stayed, pressing his pelvis against Chris, then retreated to the tip, just to slide in once more. They both moaned, completely overwhelmed by sensations. "Just tell me," Tom whimpered. "Tell me and I will... will fill you... Chris..." He shook his head slowly from side to side.

"Yes," Chris whispered. "Say it."

"Let me fill you with my come, Chris, please."

All Chris managed was a high-pitched whimper, and that was it. The sensations were indescribable, Tom's final thrusts were so full of emotion, lust, want, need, bathing him in desire, and then, and then... filling him to the brim. Chris felt Tom pulse into him, watched Tom's face awash with lust, heard him cry out his name, moving into him time and again, and then Chris came, too. A haze of nerves firing on a so far unknown frequency had him arc into his lover, the pulsing of his own cock almost painful as Tom gave him all he had.

They were both absolutely, completely spent, breathing heavily, and Chris realized for the first time just the position they were in: Tom's thighs were propping him up to where he was connected with Tom, completely open, vulnerable and indescribably fulfilled.

He reached out to caress Tom's head, bowed over him, his short hair sweat drenched, his lover, his friend, his confidante. The man who had filled him with his seed. The man who had breached him, filled him with his length, had come inside of him. And then he smiled, owning his own power. The man he loved so much that he had invited him in, the man he had opened up to, the man he had asked to fill him to the brim. He felt taller and more whole than he ever had. Proud. Full of love. And completely, utterly spent.

Tom's deflated cock slipped out, and with it, some of his sperm, causing a feeling of wetness coating his thighs. Chris held still and relished it, committed it to memory. He was a little startled when Tom ducked off between his legs, though.

"What...?" he asked weakly.

"Just looking." Tom's face popped back up, beaming. "I've been fantasizing about this all day."

"About what?"

"What my come would look like on your thighs." Tom's voice was gentle, loving, and Chris shivered when he felt his lips gently kissing him just below his perineum. "Lovely."

"Tom..."

"Just one more moment."

"Oh god." Chris chuckled tiredly, feeling Tom's fingers probing him gently, and then his mouth, kissing him reverently, his tongue lapping at him. He was too tired to care, but he knew what would come when Tom leaned over him to kiss him, and sure enough, the come on the tip of his tongue exploded across Chris' taste buds, and he mewled into the kiss. "You're such a... I have no words," he protested tiredly.

Tom gave him a satisfied smirk. "Everything looks good down there," he said. "You're a little red but that's to be expected."

"You're going to have such fun with India's daily nappy report," Chris mumbled.

Tom settled down beside him, happily nuzzling against the side of his face. "Are you okay?"

"Hm. Dead, though. Dead spent."

Tom kissed him, closed-mouthed, happy, and took his hand, smoothing his cheek into it, kissing its palm. He was using it as a pillow, and Chris smiled, rubbing his thumb against Tom's temple. Tom sighed happily.

"You're such a puppy," Chris drawled.

"I'm just excited."

"I see a tail wagging."

Tom giggled. "I love you."

"Hm. Love you, too." Chris' body was still humming with sensation, some of which he had no reference to work with. He turned on his side, to face Tom, immediately spilling some more of Tom's seed. That certainly was a very strange sensation, to be leaking from that place.

"Do you want me to clean you up a little?" Tom asked. "You're covered in come, sweetheart."

"That would be nice," Chris murmured. "Can you use a warm wash cloth?"

"Of course."

The bed dipped and Tom was gone, leaving Chris to contemplate the state of his body and mind. He swallowed, probing his mind for possible reactions. Did he feel cheap? No. Used? No. He blinked. Raw? Yes. He contracted his anus, spilling more of Tom's seed, trying to figure out how he felt about having been... taken? No. He had given something, nothing had been taken from him.

"I'm still leaking," Chris mumbled when Tom came back.

"Is it uncomfortable?" Tom asked. A warm, wet washcloth started gathering his own seed from his stomach and then slipped lower to gently clean his cock.

"Not really," Chris said. "It's just weird. Like diarrhea... I have no control over it. I just have different associations with that feeling. It's like my whole head is being rewired. Lots of wires crossing. It's very confusing."

"It'll probably take us a moment to find a new frame of reference for this," Tom said.

"You, too?"

Tom nodded. "It's not like sleeping with a woman. The sensations are different. You certainly feel different. I do it and at the same time my brain is telling me that what I'm experiencing doesn't fit with what I know, if you know what I mean. I should be in a different situation. I should not not be balls deep inside someone when that someone is a man. It's weird." He put the wet washcloth away and fetched another. "Do you want to do this yourself?"

"No. It's nice when you do it." It had certainly been a while since he had let anyone wash him like that. But he had just spread his legs for that man, had his seed deep inside of him; cleaning him up after was the least that man could do. "Did you used to do this for the women you were with?" Chris asked, watching him.

"Uh-huh." Tom gave him a smile. "You?"

"Elsa didn't let me," Chris said. "She was always hush-hush. Periods were hell. I didn't mind. It's just life." He grew quiet. "I would have liked to do it. Didn't let me take care of her after India was born, either. I was always sent out of the room when the midwife came to check on her. Makes me sad. She carried my baby, after all. The least I could do was take care of her."

Tom paused in his cleaning and scooted up, kissing Chris' temple. "You're such a good man."

"Not like she appreciated it." He blinked. "Wow. I have no idea where that came from."

"Happened to me, too, though," Tom said. "The strange associations being knocked loose. Nothing to do with the situation, with us. Just pictures and memories that I haven't had in years. Honey, do you want to squeeze some more into the washcloth or leave it as it is?"

"I'll need a pad," Chris said, amused. "Now that's new. Can you dry me and leave the towel there?"

"Of course."

"I should probably take a shower anyway." Chris sighed.

"Do whatever you need to do," Tom said. "I understand. I don't have a grip on what just happened, either."

"Hey." Chris gathered the other man in his arms. He shifted as he did so, leaking again, and was suddenly well aware again that Tom had just been buried inside of him. "Oh god, that feels so odd." He laughed helplessly. "Not really what I thought it would be like."

"No." Tom ran a gentle hand over his chest, brushing over his nipple. "Very intrusive. Very deep. Very profound. I'm still shaken. I can't imagine how you must feel."

"I'm okay. I really am. Just trying to sort through everything."

"Yeah." Tom hesitated for a moment, then drew the duvet over both of them. 

He turned off the light and settled down again with Chris, soothingly carding his fingers through his hair until he had finally drifted off.


	22. You Might Just Get It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both Tom and Chris deal with the aftermath of the ups and downs of the previous day. Chris begins to question some of his preconceptions.

When Tom woke up the next morning, he was alone in bed, and the space beside him wasn't warm any more. A look at the clock revealed that it was 7.30, and he yawned, pleased that he had had about 8 hours of sleep, longer than he had had the whole week.

He stretched, curling around the duvet that Chris had left him, which still smelled like his lover. He buried his face in it, not worried very much that his boyfriend wasn't there. After all, he knew everything about feeling shaken and unsettled after something earth-shattering had happened, and needing a bit of privacy.

He let his mind wander to last night, and immediately felt aroused. The last thing he wanted was to think of Chris solely as a vessel for his sexual pleasure, but _hot damn_. In theory, he knew he'd needed the time to get used to the thought of being with a man that way. Because it was nothing that he craved for himself, and, while he was honest with himself, because it was so unmistakeably _gay_. You could probably fool yourself for a while that you were just playing around, that it didn't really mean anything in regards to your sexual orientation, that you were just trying it out to see what it would be like, and then you could decide to drop it and shrug it off as just a phase. But being inside a man... it was serious. And it was glorious. Magnificent. Majestic. Incredible. He knew he'd needed the time, but now it seemed foolish to be waiting for so long for something that felt so incredibly right.

He was definitely getting hard at the thought of doing it again; Chris' expression so vulnerable, exposed, _angelic_ when he was first breached, the way he bit his lip and slowly slid down Tom's cock, how he'd given him the reins in complete trust that Tom would not hurt him, how Tom had moved inside of him, senses completely overwhelmed with how fantastic he felt around him. Yes, his mind had been on complete overload from the variety of sensation, from how the experience of having been inside of a woman with all the softness, wetness, and the curves did not overlap with being inside of Chris. That had been confusing, and at the same time, he'd made love to Chris so many times this past week that he was becoming very familiar with his muscular yet slim form, and now he was inside him. That alone was enough to make everyone's senses overload, he decided. To be balls-deep in Chris Hemsworth, Christ! Have him lift his hips and draw him in deeper with his heels. Have him contract around him, his legs around his hips, going so deep that he was curling Chris' spine up. Now he was curling Chris to his pleasure, how ironic was that. And then that last bit, when he'd come inside Chris, hm.... Tom caught himself stroking himself as he remembered, being so deep inside of him, filling him with his come... so much of it that Chris had been leaking for hours. With him. With his come. And oh, how he craved to do just that over and over again.

Tom bit his lip, realizing that he would have to take the edge off before he faced Chris. He needed at least some semblance of control, of patience, of not seeming like a sexual predator whose cock was jumping up like a jack-in-the-box as soon as he set sight on him. But good god, just thinking of Chris made him so hot he could hardly stand it. As if a switch had been flipped in his brain, permanently set to _I need that man and I need him now, and I need him deep and writhing on my cock until he can't take any more._

He heaved himself out of bed, his painfully hard erection bobbing uncomfortably before him as he trudged towards the bathroom. Maybe the proverbial cold shower would bring him some relief; at least he seriously hoped so. Either way, he could just jack off in there without having to hold back lest Chris heard him. 

He stepped into the stall, shivering as the first, cold drops hit his skin, and switched from the rainshower setting to a massage spray. He groaned with relief when the water started pounding at his back and shoulders, and turned it up even more to get more of a massage out of it. His back turned to the door, he leaned his head against the cold tile and started working his cock, hoping for quick relief... and then the shower door opened and closed, and Chris wrapped himself around him from behind, his lips immediately fastening on his neck.

"Chris..." So much for that plan; it was now completely obvious what he'd been trying to do. He turned around, saying "I'm sorry...", but then Chris was already pressing him against the tile, his body dense and hard against his own. _Oh_.

Chris was at least as hard as he was; and being familiar with Chris' usual timing, he knew he wasn't just like that from the moment he had stepped into the shower. Tom slung his arms around Chris' neck and stretched into his lips, and then Chris simply reached down and lifted him up, wrapping his legs around his hips, and pressed him against the tile, their hard cocks meeting in the middle.

They finally kissed, deeply, soulfully, the water washing over them, as Chris picked up an insistent beat, his hips driving Tom into the wall. It was rough, needy, unapologetically male. It was exactly what Tom needed. He reached down to draw Chris in with his hands, hearing his desperate whimpers against his ear, felt his cock sliding roughly against his own. "Harder," he said. "Fuck me harder, Chris." And Chris delivered, his thrusts rough and unforgiving, his teeth burrowing into the meat of Tom's shoulder just as Tom's nails dug into his back. Tom felt he would have bruises on his back and hips, where Chris' strong hands held him tightly, and their moans and grunts mingled with the sounds of the pounding water until they both came, moving against each other in their shared need.

Chris' hand slid lower on his back, between his butt cheeks, and brushed his hole, making Tom jerk, and Tom could very well see the satisfied smirk on his lips.

"Brat," he chided, and they both chuckled and then Chris kissed him again, slowly letting him slide off his hips.

They kissed, stroking each other's skin, and Chris reached out to switch back to the rain setting. Tom was in no hurry now and took his time mapping Chris' body with his hands, making sure he was hale and whole, kissing his shoulders, his back, as he made his slow, appreciative journey around his man, letting his hands slide down his beautiful ass. "I fucking love you so, so much," he said. "I love you, Chris."

Chris smiled and drew him closer again, his hands roaming Tom's back.

"And you make me so fucking randy, dammit," Tom swore.

Chris chuckled under his breath. "Yeah," he said. "So do you." They kissed, souls and bodies deeply entwined.

"I want to have you again," Tom said, before he could hold himself back. Chris blushed, Tom could definitely see it, and he kissed him. "I love you so much, Chris."

"I'll need a moment," Chris said, then blushed a deeper shade of red. "I can still feel you from last night."

"Oh sweetheart." It made his chest swell, and he couldn't keep himself from asking: "Are you still leaking?"

Chris nodded tightly. "A little. Almost through, though."

_Mine._ "Are you okay?" Tom asked, trying not to show too much how thrilled he was, how excited.

"I'm fine." Chris smiled. "And your tail is still wagging."

"Heheheh." Tom put a trail of little kisses along Chris' bearded jaw. "I'm sorry."

"It's cute," Chris drawled. He took a step back and reached for the shower gel. "Want me to soap you up?"

It wasn't like he was actually _dirty._.. "Yes, please." But any excuse was a good excuse.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom just couldn't keep his hands off his boyfriend, but luckily, Chris seemed to feel the same way about him. They stayed in the shower until they were pruning, then toweled each other dry and spent even more time with their hands on the other man while putting lotion on each other. Tom was very glad to see with his own eyes that Chris really was okay, and was even on his way to getting hard again when he was through with inspecting everything.

"What you do to me," Chris murmured into his ear. " _What you do to me._ "

"There's more," Tom whispered delightedly.

"I was afraid of that." Chris' laughter was warm and gentle and everything one could wish for.

Tom found himself climbing his man like a tree, hanging on to him by his legs alone, he, who kept fighting him off for wanting to carry him anywhere. Chris' biceps bulged as he held on to him by his butt, and carried him into the bedroom, toppling them both on the bed, crouching over Tom. Tom used his legs to lever himself upward, against Chris' cock, and was rewarded by Chris' lips and teeth against his neck, growling, while he let his cock trail over Tom's hips and stomach.

"Would you please come between my legs," Tom whispered into his ear. "Please make me yours."

"Are you going to be wearing me out again?" Chris asked, amused, while already reaching for the lube.

"If you let me." Tom arched into his lover, ready to receive him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


They were both giddy and a little idiotic with excitement after, play-wrestling on the bed, clobbering each other with pillows. Tom threw a blanket around his shoulders and held a heroic monologue in nothing but, which lead to Chris pulling him off his legs and tickling him until he cried uncle. Next followed a sword fight around the bed with rolled-up newspapers and then Tom suggested them recreating poses on Greek vases, which poor, innocent Chris fell for, hook, line, and sinker, until Tom got his book on erotic Greek paintings from the living room and he realized what he was in for. They both giggled over the depictions and actually tried some out but soon realized that they would need a third and fourth person to accurately copy most of them.

"I am getting an idea now why you were studying this stuff," Chris teased him, which Tom answered with yet another monologue, this time in Classic Greek. Chris tackled him and kissed him until he lost his line, and then until he couldn't remember what he had been saying.

"I still need to shut you up by kissing you," me murmured, his heart so, so light.

"Uh-huh." Tom beamed at him, deliciously naked under him.

"You could just ask me, you know?" Chris said.

"Kiss me, Chris," Tom requested, and he did.

They ended up quietly cuddled into each other, Chris with his nose against Tom's neck, just under his ear. He smelled so incredibly good. His body in his arms felt so incredibly good. All about Tom was so incredibly, _incredibly_ good. "Thank you," he said.

"For what?"

"Being you," Chris said quietly.

Tom turned on his side so he could see him better. "Hm?"

"I felt pretty self-conscious this morning," Chris admitted.

"Not any more?"

"No."

Tom placed a fond kiss on his nose, then on his brow. "I love you so, so much."

"I love you, too." Chris drew himself closer and rested his head against Tom's chest, feeling the older man running his fingers through his hair.

"I was completely stoked on you when I woke up," Tom confided. "I was embarrassed to let you see it."

"Back to the 16-year-old boy?" Chris teased.

"With a vengeance." Tom laughed quietly. "Everything about you drives me mad right now."

"In a good way?"

"In a very good way. I can hardly catch a clear thought you are so beautiful to me."

Chris drew a deep breath, cuddling into his lover. "That's good," he said contentedly.

"It is?"

Chris nodded. "Cause I want nothing so much as be with you," he admitted.

"Sleeping together does change things, doesn't it?" Tom said.

"Yeah." Chris gently rubbed over Tom's stomach, enjoying the feeling of his slim, yet very much ribbed, abdominal muscles under his hand. He leaned over him and kissed his way down the middle line. He nuzzled into his navel, making Tom laugh. He turned his head, smiling at him, resting his head in this new place. "Want to swap how it felt?"

"Amazing," Tom said. "You were so beautiful, taking me in."

Chris smiled.

"You are very, very tight," Tom remembered. "I was worried I'd be too big, that I would hurt you somehow."

Chris shook his head. "You aren't," he said.

"I have to admit I stopped worrying about it when you turned on your back," Tom said. "Good lord. I can hardly remember anything after that. I'm still high on you."

"It felt really weird when you first came into me," Chris remembered. "But also really good. You're right, you are very big. You're just a little thicker and a little longer than is comfortable."

"I'm sor..."

"No," Chris interrupted him. "That is a really good thing. I want to feel you. I want you to take my breath away. One of the best things of being with you is that I can feel you, that you can take me so deep that I feel the impact of that. I need that. I need to know you are there, I need to feel you take me just a little further than I'm comfortable with. Tom, I need _you_. I need to be with _you_."

Tom entwined his hand with Chris'. "Okay," he said. "Chris, please tell me when you're uncomfortable with anything, when it's too much. You need to promise me that. I do want to take this further, but I need to be completely and absolutely sure that you will immediately tell me when I'm taking it too far."

Chris licked his lips.

"Honey... We need to be clear about this. I know we talked about you wanting me to take you... apart, but I don't yet know where that is going to lead us. I'm afraid I may go too far. I need you as my guiding light. Don't let me hurt you, I could never forgive either of us for it."

"Taking me apart may be in the opposite direction of what we thought it might be," Chris said slowly, thinking out loud. "There is something about the very slow love you make to me that sometimes feels like my soul is going to break apart because it is so gorgeous."

"So we still have a lot of exploring to do," Tom said. "That's good, isn't it?"

"Yeah." He smiled. "I hope it's going to take a very long time."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Real life began to intrude once more during brunch, when the obnoxiously loud door bell startled both men out of their relaxed state.

"If it's your dad again I'm going to scream," Chris murmured. They were both still in their pajamas, thick socks and comfortable cardigans, enjoying the fact that they didn't have to be anywhere and had a day to themselves.

Tom gave him a look but got up from the sofa where they had been eating.

A few moments later, he came back with a letter in his hand. "It's not my dad," he said. "But it's a letter from him."

Chris scooted back in his seat to make space for Tom, who fit himself between his legs and leaned back against his torso. Chris found himself contentedly inhaling the scent of Tom's hair and wrapping his arm around his lover's middle. It was wonderful how natural Tom behaved around him and how incredibly uncomplicated their physical relationship was.

"Who writes letters these days?" Chris wondered out loud. "And do we really want to read it, Tom?"

"My dad still writes letters," Tom said, and he smiled. "I can't help but find it charming – it does add weight to the correspondence, much more than a quick text message or e-mail does."

"There is no post today?"

"He had it specially delivered by his PA," Tom said.

"I'm beginning to get a little afraid of your dad," Chris admitted.

"He was just trying to make sure I got it. He can't make me read it, but he has certainly tried to make sure I got it." He tapped the unopened envelope on his leg. "I may have, after all, mail and phone turned off."

"Imagine that," Chris said mildly and kissed Tom's temple. They had indeed agreed on leaving any devices off for the time being, needing each other more than being current on what everyone else thought. "He's certainly insistent – do you really want to read it, Tom?"

Tom took a deep breath. "Yes." He fished a knife from the table and used it to open the letter.

"What if it's bad news?" Chris cautioned. His own stomach was starting to ball up. "I have to admit I really don't want a repeat of yesterday."

"Hm." Tom put the knife away and rested the envelope on his legs. He turned in Chris' embrace until his legs were draped over his left, and his back was cradled in his right leg. "You know," he said. "I've been thinking... or rather, it's a feeling."

"Hm?" Chris still found himself distracted by how delectable Tom's ear looked and by the knowledge what kinds of sounds he could elicit from his lover if he kissed the soft skin right below. It was as if his attraction to Tom had grown exponentially since last night, which was a bit scary since it had been nothing to laugh at before. The only thing that made it bearable was that he knew that Tom felt the exact same way.

Tom noticed, of course, and he found himself being passionately, possessively kissed until his whole body hummed and his cock was hard again. It didn't have much time to relax today, he had to admit, with having Tom in such close proximity, and passion between them flaring up every few moments.

"Heh heh heh heh," he found Tom chuckling softly. "Can't keep my hands off you today."

"That is a very, very good thing," Chris purred in return.

"Uh-huh." Tom nuzzled affectionately against his chin, like a cat.

"You've been thinking...?" Chris prompted.

"I know this may sound stupid, but I'm kind of happy it's out in the open," Tom said. "I was so afraid of what would happen and now it has." He shrugged. "I'm glad that fear is not keeping me captive any more."

"I'm still a little apprehensive," Chris had to admit. "It's one thing to have it be something between me and you – and then another to see us through other people's eyes." He shuddered.

"You mean through the eyes of people who don't approve?" Tom said.

"Yeah." He ducked his head and rested his forehead against Tom's temple. There were a lot of things that were still loose in his mind, and he needed more time to sort through them.

"I really want to know what he says," Tom said, and pulled out the letter. Chris didn't look while he was reading through it, and then he felt a short laugh go through Tom. "It's good," he soothed. "Can I read it to you?"

"It's good?"

"Uh-huh." Tom turned his head and Chris opened his eyes. "Oh honey, it really is."

"Not sure what he could say that would make good on what he's done to you," Chris growled.

Tom lifted the letter and an eyebrow. "Judge for yourself?"

"Okay, then. I don't have to like it."

Tom smiled. "No." He cuddled back into Chris' knee and cleared his throat. "Here it is."

> _Tom,_
> 
>   _Thank you for talking to me yesterday even though I know it can't have been easy - neither on the phone nor in person._
> 
>   _I don't think I have to say that everything I have done was done to spare you a fate I had seen destroyed the life of someone I looked up to and wanted to emulate, who was a role model throughout my childhood and teenage years. I saw that you were on your way to become exactly like George and I couldn't stand losing you, too, not if I could do anything to prevent it._
> 
>   _The way you have developed in recent years and the calm, joyful fortitude that you have exhibited as you made your way in the world in a profession I was wary about, and the overwhelmingly positive reception that you have experienced for exactly all those traits that I loved about George, has long shown me that just because a man is sensitive and kind does not mean he will end up being ostracized and mocked. Watching you capturing the hearts of millions, inspiring them to be more than they are today, just as George did for me when I was young, has opened my eyes, and I'd suspected quite a while ago that I had done you wrong to insist on such unkind treatment when you were young, even if it was done in the name of protecting you._
> 
>   _Hearing about your relationship with Chris last night, alas, was not a surprise. It felt, to me, like that last missing piece I had always feared would come to pass, and I needed to see both of you for myself. I wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing, what you would face, and that you are equipped to handle it. And I realized that I had to be truthful about my contribution to your life and leave my actions to your judgment._
> 
>   _Tom, I cannot pretend that I don't wish you had chosen a woman as your life partner. At the same time, after having seen the two of you together, I cannot shake the feeling that much of my discomfort with the idea of a homosexual relationship is based on ignorance. Chris certainly seems like an upstanding, truthful young man who takes his responsibilities very seriously and is struggling to do the right thing. Seeing him rise to your defense like that was a surprise and, after a first annoyance, left me with the uncomfortable feeling that he might be much better equipped to represent your needs than I ever was._
> 
>   _While it is always uncomfortable to be shown one's limits in such an undiluted manner, I did realize later that that is what has happened with your sisters, and now with you - I had to give them up to someone who was more important and carried more weight in their lives than I. It is never easy to let one's children go, but knowing them in good, protective hands always aids that process, and I am surprised to find that I think of you and Chris that way._
> 
>   _Tom, no doubt I will be a difficult father, knowing nothing about the homosexual lifestyle or how to relate to you as a couple. But I want you to know that your choice of partner in no way diminishes the love I hold for you as my son. I understand my actions have caused some pain in your life, and it would be understandable if you did not seek further contact with me. But my hope is that you and Chris will not hesitate to call or visit, giving me the opportunity to share in your lives and overcome my ignorance. I do not care that it may be difficult for me to adjust to the new circumstances, all I care about is not losing you as my son._
> 
>   _Please be well and give my best to Chris,_
> 
> _James_

  
  


Tom put the letter down, and Chris could see that the fine paper was covered with James' sharp, meticulous handwriting, a very accurate representation of his personality. "Did he actually say once that he was sorry?" Chris growled.

"This is as much of an apology as I'm about to get," Tom said.

"And now you're supposed to be thankful that he accepts you even though you're in a, how does he put it so nicely, _homosexual relationship_. Like we have a disease." He snorted.

"Not everyone has your parents," Tom said, sounding a little puzzled. "Chris, he's really trying."

"He keeps harping on how difficult this all is on him. Has he ever wondered how difficult everything's been on you, thanks to him?"

"I don't know. All I can read from the letter is that he's willing to let us explain, Chris."

Chris huffed.

"It's certainly better than being yelled at by my mum and Evie."

"The way he writes it makes me feel like I'm some sort of zoo animal," Chris said.

"He says some really rather nice things about you, Chris," Tom said. "I think you really left an impression. It's very hard to earn my father's respect, but I'd say you hit it off the cuff."

"Are you going to keep defending him?" Chris asked, a little disgruntled.

"Chris, what do you want me to do? He is who he is, and he's really bending himself out of shape here. All I can read in this letter is that he's very well aware that he has made a mistake, but has a really hard time admitting it. Still, it's in there, between the lines. He's saying some very nice things about me and my career, certainly nothing he's admitted to in so many words before. He says you earned his respect and he thinks we're making a good couple. That's huge, Chris. And he expresses his desire to stay in contact with us, and how important it is to him not to lose me over this. Honestly, from my dad, that's as far as it's going to get."

Chris huffed. "It just... He still wishes you'd be with a woman," he said.

"And then he says that he has to admit that despite that wish, he can see that you're a good partner for me, Chris." Tom put the letter down and concentrated fully on Chris. "Sweetheart... what's going on?"

"Why can't they see what we see?" Chris asked desperately.

"Honey, I think he does, he's just doing it from his point of view."

"He... he keeps talking about what we have as if it was something... strange and disgusting. Like he needs to work on overcoming his abhorrence to come even near us. I'm... I'm the same person today that I was two weeks ago, and suddenly the choice of person that I love has... has people erupt in hate and being really wary about coming in contact with me. _The homosexual lifestyle_. What's that supposed to be? We live and love like everyone else." He looked into Tom's eyes, desperate to be understood.

"Chris..." Tom's brow was furrowed with compassion.

"We're doing nothing wrong," Chris insisted. "Why does he make such a fuss about this?"

"Honey.. oh god, I don't know how else to say this, but are you only now realizing that this is how it's going to be? This is how a lot of other people will see us, as something other than them. Doesn't matter that we haven't changed a bit, or are even happier now than we were before. Having people like your parents, or Sannah, is lucky, but it's going to be the exception."

"But it doesn't make a difference to me what gender you are. I just fell in love with _you_."

"It does make a huge difference to a whole lot of other people," Tom said. "Unfortunately so. And a lot of them won't be as ready to want to overcome their own apprehension just to keep us in their lives, Chris, as my father is. It's way more than I expected of him. Way more. He can see how it's difficult for him, and he's not blaming me for misbehaving. He's putting it on himself, realizing he's got a lot to learn. That is a lot."

Chris just shook his head, unable to meet Tom's eyes.

"Chris, have you thought about talking to your brothers about this?" Tom asked softly.

"No."

"Will you tell me why not?"

"We weren't ready yet," Chris said, and then sighed. "I know Liam's going to erupt in buttsex jokes. He's not going to be very comfortable with this. I love my little brother and I really think he needs me, but he needs to respect me if I'm supposed to help him. I don't think... I think he won't take me quite seriously any more when he hears of this. I'd really like to tell him in person, but..." He squirmed. "I'm a bit uncomfortable with it, I have to admit. I don't want Liam to think I'm suddenly a sissy and can't beat him up any more if he gets too uppity."

"And Luke?"

"He's such a family man. He's not going to be happy to hear that I left Elsa and India," Chris admitted. "And he's my big brother and I... kinda crave his approval, so having him scold me... which he no doubt will... meh." He grimaced. "Not looking forward to that one, either."

"But will they hate on you and not talk to you any more?"

"Not really." But he felt in his heart that the fact that he was deeply in love with Tom, which he knew he would not be able to shut up about, would make a huge difference in how his brothers would relate to him in the future. "It's kind of weird to think I'm not going to be one of the boys any more, though," he admitted. "I don't think anyone's going to be telling wife jokes around me now. God, I hate this. I don't want to be different."

"So what are we going to do?" Tom asked, and it was an open, honest question. "Stay in the closet with friends and family, or who is left to tell, and have them treat us like before? Or come out and have them react to the news?"

"Do I have to decide that today?" Chris mewled.

"No." Tom kissed him gently, and Chris was happy to concentrate on that for a while, on how awesome Tom felt in his arms, how soft his lips were and how he could feel waves of love and affection wash over him as they kissed.

"How can love like this be wrong?" he asked when they took a break.

"It isn't." Tom lovingly caressed his brow. "I love you, Chris. It feels so good."

"Hm, same here." Chris smiled. "So what are you going to do about the letter?"

"I'd like to write one back," Tom said. "I'm not ready to talk to him again, he hurt me too much. But I would like to write back."

Chris sighed. "Okay. Tell him I'm still upset with how he treated you and that I had to wait three more years for you just because of what he's done."

Tom laughed softly. "Okay."

  
  


* * *

  
  


They finished brunch, but Chris could see that Tom was distracted. So when they were done clearing the table, he said: "Do you want to check on your mum and Evie while I do the dishes?"

"I'm... um... yes." Tom blushed. "I'm sorry, I know you're probably afraid it's all going to turn out like yesterday..."

"It might."

"It might." Tom sighed. "Then again, I already know what to expect this time. They're my family. Just because they're completely out of bounds right now doesn't mean I stop loving them. I want to at least check on Evie to see if she's alright."

"Honey, she was livid with you yesterday."

"I know." Tom scuffed his toe on the tile.

"And she made it worse by calling everyone to get them to rile you up even more."

"But it didn't quite work the way she thought it would," Tom said. "Chris, she's my little sister, she's heavily pregnant with twins, and I'm her big brother. I can't just..."

"Go call her," Chris said, nudging him gently. "I'll be here."

Tom gave him an exuberant hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." But he had to smile.

Tom left for the living room and Chris tackled the dishes, washing them by hand for a change. It helped him think, and pass the time, and not worry too much about what was going on out there.

But of course he worried, and it made him think about how their relationship was slowly changing, how the last day had changed so many things. They'd had one blessed week to themselves, where it was just him and Tom, pretending the rest of the world didn't exist. And he had pretended, had concentrated solely on carrying Tom through this, making sure he was okay. Making sure he would not regret his decision to say yes.

It was plain to see that he didn't have to carry Tom any longer. Tom had been through the fire he'd feared and he'd come out quite fine. Shaken, a little burned at the edges, but the first thing he'd done after the worst was over was regroup and make love to him, as if he'd wanted to say: _You know what? You all think I'm gay? Well, then so be it. Might as well go all the way._

The thought made him smile. Making love with Tom that way did change things. It added to Evie and Donna's reaction, and James' letter. It added to the slowly dawning recognition that this was actually serious. That other people took his love for Tom very seriously. That they saw him in a different light because of it. It wasn't just that microcosm of him, Tom, and Elsa any more. What they did affected a lot of other people, whether they liked that or not.

_Am I gay?_ he asked himself for the first time. It made him stop what he was doing, as the question actually perplexed him. _I've been begging Tom to have anal sex with me, it can't get any gayer than that._ Certainly the love he had for Tom easily eclipsed any other relationship he'd had in its intensity and clarity. Everyone else had kind of happened, and because it was nice and felt good, and everyone had approved of it, he'd let it proceed. This, however, he'd had to fight tooth and claw for. Was still braving the odds for. He had tried to ignore how he felt for Tom for so long that when those feelings had finally caught up with him, they'd hit him over the head, sat him down and said: _Do something about it, dammit. Stop ignoring us, you idiot. He's yours and you are his and good lord we'll have you together if it kills us._

"Every gay person deserves a medal," he grumbled. "Dammit, it takes guts."

  
  


* * *

  
  


It took Tom only half an hour before he came back, and that told Chris that things didn't go too well.

"Evie refuses to talk to me," Tom sighed. "I talked with Bobbie for a moment. He's really okay with everything – but a real bloke. Doesn't want me to go into the details, just says: 'It's cool, man. Don't worry about it.'" They both chuckled.

"We should make a list," Chris said. "People who are cool with it and people who aren't."

"I think we're not doing too bad, all things considered," Tom said. "My family's split right down the middle with two brothers-in-law thrown in on the approval side. Could be worse."

"Could also be better," Chris sighed. "Could especially be better if I hadn't screwed up."

"It is what it is," Tom said, kissing his jaw. "But Bobbie said Evie and the twins are fine otherwise, so that's good. I asked him to keep me posted if anything were to happen. Knowing what a guy he is, I'm not having too much hope, though."

"And your mum?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "I had a really wonderful voice mail by her. Wonderful as in ludicrous, unfortunately."

"What did it say?"

"I don't want to go too deep into detail," Tom sighed, "But she's convinced there's a conspiracy against her. Apparently, Dad talked to her last night on our behalf – imagine that! And your mum was also busy and tried to talk to her, so now she's really upset that she is being made into the bad mother here."

"My mother called her?" Chris shook his head.

"Apparently, yes. Mum's getting really defensive now, I don't think that will help."

"Did you talk to her in person?"

"I rang through, had Fred on the phone who was giving me a lecture about upsetting my mother, that she'd been crying all night and asking herself what she'd done wrong. Makes me feel horrible."

"Hm."

"Apparently she was out but he told me he'd tell her I'd called."

"It's great to wait for a call that will be super uncomfortable. Again," Chris said ironically.

"Tell me about it."

"Maybe you should just wait until they've all cooled off a bit."

"I'm trying to prevent further damage, really," Tom said. "Once Evie and Mum are convinced that it's them against the rest of the world, I'm not sure I can do anything any more."

"So if we do have people who are on our side who call them on our behalf, it means we – or you, in that case – ultimately pay for it?"

"Looks like it at the moment."

"Tom, that's ludicrous. I'm not going to tell my mother not to talk to yours."

"We could at least tell her how she reacted."

"I'm sure she knows, she's not stupid," Chris said. "Sorry if I'm not more sympathetic here, but I think the way your mum reacts is not okay. Neither is what your sister does. They could at least let you explain what happened. Love doesn't mean 'Until you do something that I don't approve of'."

Tom blinked. "You're going to be such a spectacular father," he said.

"I'm concentrating on being a spectacular boyfriend right now," Chris said.

"You're doing a great job at it." Tom hugged him tightly.

  
  


* * *

  
  


They went back into the living room, and Tom told Chris to stay there. He came back with the box that had come in the post the day before and sat down on the sofa opposite Chris, then put the parcel between them. 

He handed Chris a letter opener: "Open it?"

"What's in it?"

"Last week."

"What?"

"I ordered it last Sunday. It only came yesterday. I just thought about it still sitting there, and I think it's very last week."

Chris gave him a look and sliced through the adhesive tape that kept the parcel closed.

"It's a bit embarrassing," Tom said, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Now I'm really curious." Chris unfolded the carton and removed the bill lying on top. Then his eyebrows crept up his forehead until it felt like they hit his hairline. "Oh-hoh," he said. Then he grinned at Tom. "Really?"

Tom sighed. "Really."

"This is... something." Chris chuckled and took the first item out of the box. It was a dildo, much slimmer and shorter than either Tom or him. Next came an assortment of interesting plugs in varying sizes, a vibrator and an assortment of lubes. One came with sparkles. Chris held it up and grinned. "Thank you! That is so me."

Tom boxed him in the shoulder. "It came as a package," he said. "I didn't pick it specially."

"Do you want to explain?" Chris asked, incredibly amused.

"I ordered it last week while doing my research on anal sex," Tom said. "I was browsing this site and this is the anal play starter kit." He blushed again. "Ah, look at me. I'm still embarrassed."

"But Tom... if you had all of this planned, why did we have this huge discussion yesterday?" Chris asked.

"I wanted to surprise you," Tom said. "Actually... I knew I wanted to learn to enjoy it for you, but I wasn't sure I'd be up to... you know... doing it to you myself. At least not right away. I thought if I had some toys to play with at first, it would help me ease into it. And you, too." He rolled his eyes and laughed. "Literally."

"That's really sweet," Chris said. "But you do know I would never ask anything of you that you feel uncomfortable with just to please me, right?"

"Yeah, well..." Tom shrugged. "You don't. I'm really glad you are okay with me not wanting to receive you. Well, wanting... I wouldn't say not wanting, I just..." He shuddered. "Wish I had different equipment for it."

"I know," Chris said. "Like I said, it's okay. Trust me, you're making more than up for it." He leaned over and kissed Tom. "Like you always say, how would I enjoy something that you clearly don't? Uh-uh."

"Will you still want to try these?" Tom wanted to know.

"Not at the moment," Chris admitted. "They have nothing on your cock and if you don't mind, I prefer the real deal."

"I don't mind at all," Tom said softly, but he beamed.

"I will, however, pour all that sparkly lube on you." He chuckled. "And this thing here." He held up the vibrator. "I have some ideas for this."

"Inside of you?" Tom wanted to know.

"Not really. I know you don't want to be penetrated, and we won't go there. But I can tell you that having your prostrate stimulated is pretty amazing. We could try putting that between your legs when..."

At that moment the phone rang.

"Do your parents have horrible timing or do they have horrible timing?" Chris huffed.

Tom grinned. "Hold that thought, honey," he said, kissing him quickly. "I love you."

"Right." Chris shook his head as he watched Tom dive for his phone.


	23. Mirror Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talking to Tom's mother makes Chris realize his own role in his breakup with Elsa.

Tom decided that this talk was best held one on one, but his heart beat rapidly in his chest when he picked up the phone as he closed the bedroom door behind him. "Hello?"

"Thomas? It's your mother." She sounded distant when she spoke. "Fred told me you called. Are you ready to apologize?"

Tom, who had just sat down in his comfortable chair, blinked. "Apologize?"

"For the tone of voice you used on me yesterday," she said.

Tom was too perplexed to answer for a moment and actually had to think how to reply.

"Um, Mum, you yelled at me for ten minutes without stopping, and you said some really hurtful things," he then said. "I would love to talk to you but I'm not letting you put me down."

"I see." He could virtually see her crossing her arms.

"Mum, I don't want to fight with you," Tom said. "Can't we just talk?"

"I don't know what about," she said crossly. "As long as you insist on..."

"On?" He sighed.

"Well, you know. Doing what you do with Chris."

"And what would that be?" he asked.

"You know full well what the two of you are up to," she said. "It's a disgrace, Tom. You are like brothers. He's a married man. Have you no shame?"

He took a deep breath, then got up from his chair in the bedroom and walked back into the living room. Chris was on the sofa, his notebook in his lap, typing. He looked up when Tom came in and immediately put the notebook on the table and closed it.

"Not going well?" he asked in a low voice

Tom shook his head as he legged it over the back of the sofa and landed by Chris' side, where he snuggled himself in, immediately enveloped by his boyfriend's arm. He felt Chris' lips against his temple and closed his eyes, his fingerstips caressing Chris' hand around his middle.

"What am I supposed to be ashamed of?" he asked. "Falling in love?"

"Tom, don't pretend you aren't aware of the consequences of your actions," she chided.

"I'm not," Tom said truthfully. "I get that it's a decision you don't approve of."

"That's not even half of it," she said. "After all we've been through with your father, you go ahead and break up a young and happy family with a very small child. I am very disappointed in you, and I don't think I can forgive you. Add to that that your father has been calling me yesterday, making excuses for you. It makes me believe the two of you are of one ilk."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing that I want to repeat," she said crossly.

"Mum, you keep skirting the issue," Tom said.

"And then Fiona Hemsworth called last night. Late, I might add..."

"She's in Australia..." Tom murmured, sighing. "She probably just got up."

"Either way, I had to listen to her going on about how she thinks this is a good choice for her son. Has the whole world gone mad?"

"She loves him," Tom said softly. "And she loves me."

"I obviously grossly overestimated the Hemsworth family values," Donna said decisively. "They seemed nice enough but what they call progressive is clearly a decay of values."

"Or they simply love their children for what they are instead of what they want them to be," Tom said, exasperated. "Mum, really, this is starting to get me down! Is it so hard to acknowledge that I have found someone who makes me really happy? I'm not doing this for fun and laughs, it's because I need him, and no one has ever made me feel so loved, and so content."

"In it for your personal gratification, Tom. We all need to make sacrifices, and I was expecting you to know better. What you do does reflect on your family..."

"It's not a bad thing!" Tom said.

"Tom, as a representative of a family who has suffered greatly from the fallout of an ugly divorce, I expect more of you, and I'm not willing to hide my displeasure on your behalf."

"I'm not giving him up, Mum," Tom said quietly. "In no way am I aiming to hurt you, or Evie, or Sannah, or anyone else. But I have given the family so much over the years. So much. And now this man comes into my life..." He heard his mother blow out a disparaging breath. "Yes, so he's a man. You know what? It doesn't really matter. Because he's taking care of me and loves me for who I am. Am I happy that I am destroying a marriage in the process? No. But we're working to help Elsa and make the transition as painless as possible, for India, too. No one is left in the dust here, mum. But I love him, and he loves me, and I'm not willing to give him up again."

"Then we have nothing more to say to each other," Donna said.

"Mum, I refuse to let you close the door on our relationship," Tom insisted. "You and I have helped each other through a really painful time in our lives. I love you and I will forever be in your debt for what you have done for me. I want you along on this new journey. I know I'll need your advice and your guidance for whatever is coming up."

"You have my advice, Tom," she said, her voice softening somewhat. "This is not a good decision. Turn away from it and we can talk and I'm happy to welcome you back. Let Chris go back to his wife..."

"You have no idea how much you're hurting me right now," Tom said. "All I'm asking you is to trust me. Because you know I'm a good person and I don't hurt anyone lightly, and there must be a reason for why I'm doing all of this."

"I'm sorry, Tom, I think you are wrong."

Tom bit his lip as he felt tears shooting into his eyes. He pressed back into his lover's body and drew his arm tightly around him. "Mum, please don't do this."

"You leave me no other choice."

It went quiet in the line as Tom tried to suppress his tears, swallowing several times, and she was waiting for him to say something.

"O...okay," he finally said. "I just want you to know that... that I'm here, and I'll always stay your son, no matter what. And if you want to talk, please call me. There will be no hard feelings, I'll... I'll always be happy to talk, okay? My door will always be wide open for you."

"It's no life I want to condone by taking part in it," his mother said softly. "I hope you'll see the error of your ways soon."

"Mum..." But he couldn't talk any more, the realization that this might be the last contact they may have was too much to bear. "I beg you..."

He felt Chris' fingers against his and gave up his phone to him. Chris pressed a kiss to his temple before he put the phone to his ear. 

"Mrs Hiddleston?" he said. "It's Chris." He listened for a moment. "No, I took the phone from him because he's crying," he said. "I don't know what you were talking about... well, I can imagine. You're doing your son wrong," he said. "I love him dearly and he's not responsible for me breaking up with Elsa, I am. He doesn't deserve being punished for something that I have done." 

Tom heard his mother's calm voice, but not what she was saying. 

"No, I understand that you have been hurt in the past, and for that I am really sorry. And it might look like history is repeating itself but it really isn't." 

Donna's voice flared up again. 

"I'm sorry, but I am involved now. I intend to spend the rest of my life with Tom. If he's unhappy you better believe I care, like any good partner would. You're letting your own pain get in the way of loving your son, who really needs you right now, and no, I can't keep myself out of that. It is very much my business because Tom is my business now." 

Tom felt him shake his head as he listened to his mother speak. 

"Mrs Hiddleston, that is of course your prerogative. Let me tell you one thing, though, if it was up to me, he wouldn't even talk to you any more until you can see how incredibly wrong you do him. You raised him into a loving, caring, kind man. He doesn't stop being that just because his heart is leading him down a path you don't like. He loves you and wants you in his life. In our lives. You're going to have a new granddaughter soon, I don't understand that you don't want to meet her and be part of her life."

He blew out an aggravated breath at Donna's response.

"How very small-minded of you," he said mildly. "How very, very small minded. I feel really sorry for you right now."

Tom pressed Chris' knee and looked up at him in alarm.

"Yes, that must be it. As if an expensive education was a guarantee for a good heart. I'm sorry I so overestimated the love you have for Tom in the past. I won't make that mistake again."

He shook his head at what Donna said next.

"I am very sad that you are so willing to give up your son over your public image," he said. "Just in case something inside of you still cares, I can guarantee you that I will love and treasure him and take care of him for what he is, not what I wish him to be. And I know my family will also take him in as if he was one of our own. But I know we can't make up for you not being there, so I urge you to find some way to stay in contact with Tom, because he really loves you and you're currently breaking his heart."

He sighed and listened to Donna's response.

"I'm really sorry you feel that way. We're here in case you change your mind," Chris said, then looked at Tom, lifting the phone as a question whether he would like to talk to her again. Tom pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Tom sends his love. Have a good day."

He turned off the phone and let it slide to the table, then settled back into holding Tom.

"Thank you for trying," Tom said quietly.

"Trying to stay civil," Chris sighed. "For your sake."

"I know." Tom cuddled into Chris, wrapping his arms around his lover. He could feel Chris' heart beat under his ear and let the sound calm his, as well. "Thank you for saying that she can call."

"Honey, I'm only doing that for you because what I really want..."

"I know." He felt Chris' hand slowly brush through his hair and exhaled, closing his eyes and just giving himself over to the sense of security and protection. Chris' hand slipped lower and affectionately rubbed his back while the other cradled his head to his chest, his thumb caressing his cheekbone. Chris was so gentle with him, so kind. Just concentrating on the affection he was receiving helped buffer him against his mother's hurtful words. She'd actually been reasonable this time, not yelling at him, but she, too, had obviously had a night to think about what she had learned. The very idea that he couldn't just come to her with everything any more seemed unreal. They were tied by such a tight bond, and she had relied on him for so many things. It felt like cutting off a limb.

"Chris," Tom said after a while.

"Hm?"

"I think maybe it's good if my mum and I don't talk for a while," he said haltingly. "I'm going to have to talk with your mom about this again, but... maybe it's good if we learn to live without the other."

"Okay." Chris drew him closer and kissed the top of his head.

"Kind of grow up... both of us. Grow out the parts where the other person was so far." He shivered. "Hard to find words for it."

"I just hate how she keeps hurting you," Chris said. "That's all."

Tom peeked up at him. "But I had to know," he said.

"I understand." Chris smiled sadly at him. "Still difficult to watch."

Tom squeezed his middle. "I couldn't do it without you," he said softly. "And I absolutely mean that."

"You wouldn't have to," Chris reminded him.

Tom sat up so he could look straight into his eyes. "That would be so awful," he said sincerely. "I much rather face all this... long overdue strife than not have you in my life. All of this has always been there, under the surface, and it made me hide the best part of me." He ducked his head. "I feel like I can finally breathe," he said. "And it's all thanks to you and your willingness to help me push through."

"Very selfish willingness to help you," Chris said gently. "Very selfish."

"Heh." Tom kissed him.

"I get to be with you," Chris says.

"You certainly do." They kissed again. "Don't you think I'll ever let you go again."

"I hope not."

"You're stuck with me now, whether you want to or not."

"Uh-huh." Chris' smile grew wider with every word. "What an awesome fate."

Tom smiled and cuddled back into his arms, linking their hands. He closed his eyes for a moment and nuzzled against Chris' neck, inhaling him deeply, feeling his arms contract around him. He was so content, so calm.

"I keep thinking about coming out to my brothers," Chris said after a while. "And whether or not I'm gay."

Tom blinked. "Never thought of you that way."

"I'm practically begging you for anal sex, so the thought has occurred to me," Chris said mildly.

"Hm." Tom turned a little and then lay backacross Chris' legs, so he could look up at him.

"That cannot be comfortable," Chris shook his head, amused.

"It totally is," Tom assured him. His breath hitched when Chris' hand found its way under his shirt. "Hmmmm. Added bonus."

"Uh-huh. You're such a distraction." Chris leaned over him to kiss him, his warm hand caressing Tom's stomach.

"You were saying...?" Tom finally said, smiling. He was getting aroused again. It felt awesome.

"Nothing more, really. Just wondering."

"Have you ever had feelings like this for another man?" Tom asked. "Ungh, listen to me, I'm already getting jealous."

Chris laughed. "No. But then again I never felt like this for a woman, either. It just felt different with them. I could still think."

"That's never a good sign," Tom said wisely.

"With you, I just have no choice."

"Hm?"

"You blow all my fuses," Chris confessed. "I keep thinking about what area we're not a good fit in, and I can't think of any. As soon as I'm anywhere near you, you're the only thing that exists."

Tom blinked. He was getting rapidly distracted by Chris' hand, which was now drawing lines between his hip bones. He covered it with his own to halt its progress for the moment. "Have you always felt that way about me from the start?" he asked.

"You were certainly the first man I had... um... erotic dreams about," Chris confessed, blushing.

"What were you thinking when that happened?" Tom asked, now really curious.

"I thought it was interesting," Chris said. "I was pleased that... that my mind was making no difference, that I was capable of loving that way, without prejudice."

"You're a wonder, Chris Hemsworth."

Chris shrugged. "Not really. I did catch myself looking later, to see if I would feel the same way about other men. But they were never as interesting as you, or didn't make me laugh that much, or were just so macho."

"You did look at other men." This was getting more interesting by the minute.

"Um... yeah." Chris crinkled his nose.

"Like... what's your type?" Tom asked as casually as he was capable.

"You?" Chris said, smiling.

"Chri-is..." Tom reached up and tickled him. "Out with it."

"Oh, alright, I... I kinda like the guy who plays Oliver Queen on Arrow."

_Oooooooh._ "Stephen Amell?" Tom said. "Yeah, he's nice."

Chris gave him a look. "I once had a very long conversation with Elsa about how awesome he looked when working out without a shirt on."

"You didn't."

"Well, she started it. We were watching an episode..." He let his sentence trail out. "I'm beginning to see why she wasn't surprised at all when I first told her about you."

"Oh my god." Tom covered his face with his hand and chuckled helplessly.

"It's not funny," Chris said. "Come to think of it, we really got into it, too." He rolled his eyes at himself.

"Uh-huh. And did you ever say anything to her about me before?"

"No, but she did," Chris recalled. "Kept calling you my husband and... you know the kissing jokes and..." He grew very quiet. "I guess she knew before I did." He swallowed. "I really should have never married her, it was just... _wrong_."

"Chris." Tom swung up from his perch so he could better look at him. "Honey."

"It's just... if I knew... how could I... I was lying to her, and I was lying to myself."

"Chris, you thought I was unavailable, and you needed love."

"I should have gone after you harder. I didn't because..."

"I was not ready," Tom said. "Don't you dare blame yourself for that."

"If I had showed up under your window and serenaded you, could you look me in the eyes now and tell me that wouldn't have made a difference?"

"I would've probably dropped into your lap like a ripe plum," Tom admitted. "And then died of shame afterwards and never look at you again."

"I was interested and I didn't... go for it because I knew that if it came out my career would probably never take off," Chris said bluntly.

"As it probably wouldn't have," Tom agreed.

"So when I liked Elsa that seemed like a good way out."

"Listen, if you and Elsa have been swapping notes like this from the get-go, and she's seen us together from the start and had her suspicions, I'm telling you, she took a gamble, too. She knew who she was marrying. Elsa is not stupid."

"Ungh." Chris obviously didn't like that line of thought. Tom could see his face work as he thought of something to say that would debunk Tom's theory.

"What was the first thing she said when you told her we'd been sleeping together?" Tom said.

"I didn't tell her, she... she kind of... guessed it on her own," Chris said reluctantly. "I didn't want to tell her. I wanted to figure out what it had meant, first, and if you were even going to want to be my friend any more the next morning. But she prodded me from the get-go, asked what was going on, and when I told her I was staying over at your house, she... she kind of said: 'So I was right about Tom', and that was it. There were never any details shared, or... I didn't call her and said: 'You know what? I had an awesome night with Tom.'" He sounded completely deflated when he said: "I thought that was so cool about her that she took that all in stride, Tom, always had, from the get-go. I could just be honest with her. Didn't have to be more macho than I was."

"I'm sorry."

"Well... yeah." Chris wiped at his eyes. "Stupid topic."

Tom had to admit that it was quite sobering to think that she had fallen in love with Chris for exactly the traits that would then cause him to leave her for a man – and that he had fallen in love with her for loving him the way he was, obvious attraction to him included. And now exactly that tolerance and love was blowing up in her face.

"That's really sad," Tom said. "It really is. I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't see it that way so far."

"Just hit me like a brick."

"I shouldn't have asked."

"No, no." Chris shook his head. "It's easy to think of her at the moment as the person who is nothing but aggravating us but really she... she's really lost."

"I don't know what to do for her at the moment as she's really prickly about accepting help," Tom said.

"You shouldn't be the one having to worry about it anyway," Chris said. "But it's really kind of tough to realize... I think I thought in the beginning, I could have a relationship with you _and_ Elsa... I don't know what I'm saying."

"No, I know what you mean." Tom stroked his hair. "I was always thinking how it could be possible to be with you and make sure she and India would also stay in your life."

"Yeah, well, reality doesn't work that way. I love you now, and I love you... _so much_. There's just no room for anyone else. And I've been real cruel to her, trying to get her to back off." He blew out a breath and shook his head. "Not proud of myself."

"Do you want to call her?"

"Not sure that would help," Chris said. "We talked yesterday and it was better than on Monday but like you said... I mean, what can I say? I'm not saying I'll leave you and take her back. We can't ever have that relationship again."

"It's hard to believe it's only been a week for her, too," Tom said. "It feels like we've been together a lot longer, but she must still be in shock."

"Yeah." Chris slowly shook his head at himself. "What a sodding topic for today."

"You've just suffered through me dealing with family for a couple of hours," Tom said. "It's no hardship for me to be talking with you about yours."

"I was kind of hoping we could just hang out and... well... see what happens," Chris sighed. "Have a day just you and me, you know?"

"Honey, we're a couple now, my family matters, your family matters. There's no schedule for this."

Chris pressed their foreheads together, his hand around Tom's neck. "Can I think about this for a moment? On my own?"

"Sure." Tom chose to ignore the stab of insecurity and loss. "Do you... where do you want to go? Upstairs?"

"No, I'll... I just need a moment to think, Tom. I'll just... if you don't mind, I'll just take my notebook to the recliner and... and see what's coming up."

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

Chris kissed him softly. "Never."

Tom allowed himself to get lost in the love for a moment, cementing his bond with Chris. 

"I does make me a little insecure when you want to patch it up with her," he admitted. "But I want you to do what you need to do."

"I have no idea yet what I'm going to do," Chris said. "Just that I'm not going to pack up my things and leave, okay? I could never..." his voice broke and he shook his head. "Nevermind."

"Do we have any other plans for the day?" Tom asked. "I know I had kind of planned to go to the RADA meet, I mean, if you want to go..."

"But...?"

"But I would rather spend the day just with you," Tom exhaled.

"That sounds perfect."

"We can maybe go another time?"

"Yeah."

But Tom could see that Chris was a bit distracted now, and he couldn't blame him. He kissed him quickly. "Honey, I'm going to leave you to it," he said. "Do you need any music?"

  
  


* * *

  
  


Tom started some laundry, and put the sheets he'd been putting in this morning in the dryer. The amount of sheets they were going through was properly indecent, he knew, but he'd rather wash them than re-use them, knowing they were saturated with their bodily fluids and whatever lubrication aid of choice they were using. He folded the load he'd taken out and carried them to the bedroom where he stood for a moment, wondering if it was worth putting them into the wardrobe, then simply stored them near the bed. He was fairly sure they would be put on before they went to sleep.

Having Chris as a roommate proved to be aggravating in only one point: He didn't leave Tom much to do around the house. The kitchen was clean, the bed made, and Tom had quickly collected their used towels from this morning and they were already soaking in suds.

He remembered the parcel and fetched it, busying himself for a while with cleaning every toy with soap and water, then put those that Chris had indicated he might want to use, on the nightstand with the other supplements. That, also, was properly indecent when you looked at it. Wet wipes cheek-to-cheek with a ludicrous amount of different lubes and massage oils, condoms, and now a few toys... Tom smiled to himself. It certainly spoke of a healthy sex life. He didn't want it any other way.

When he passed through the living room the next time, Chris looked up from his notebook and smiled. "I've written something," he said. "Could you read it for me?"

Tom stopped dead in his tracks and blinked. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Chris waved him closer.

Tom had to admit that Chris looked positively adorable bowed over his notebook, brow furrowed in concentration, a few strands of hair escaping the rubber band that kept his long hair bound at the back of his neck. All it needed was a pair of learned looking specs and he would make lurid love to him just for his nerd appeal.

Chris scooted aside on the recliner to make space for him and Tom fitted himself to his side, one hand on his shoulder.

"What do you want me to read?"

"I've taken a leaf out of your Dad's book," Chris sighed. "I just started writing down what came to my mind and then it turned out it was a letter to Elsa."

"Chris, I can't read that," Tom protested. "It's too private."

"It's not... really," Chris said."You're basically in every paragraph."

"She's going to be so thrilled." Tom couldn't help the irony in his voice.

"That's why I want you to read it," Chris insisted. "You made more progress with her yesterday than I did the whole week. And I'm talking a lot about what we want, or what we talk about, and I don't want to write anything that you wouldn't agree on."

"I'm still wary on the concept," Tom admitted.

" _Please?_ "

Tom sighed. "This look should get you nowhere," he chided. "I've seen it on India, and she's as good as you are at using it to get what she wants."

"Is it working?" Chris asked, batting his lashes at him.

"Yes," Tom grumbled, but he had to laugh. He leaned against the backrest. "Read it to me?"

"Okay, cool." Chris shifted busily in his seat and scrolled up to the beginning of the page. "Okay, um..."

"Just read it, honey." Tom encouraged him quietly.

  
  


_"Elsa,"_ Chris read. 

_"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm hurting you so much, and I'm sorry I'm bumbling my way through this as if I was someone who had no sense at all. Half of the time I don't. I've fallen and I don't want to get up, but that isn't an excuse to treat you like that. I am very sorry I just hit you over the head with wanting to move in with Tom, and then treated you so badly that you got angry and we yelled. It was easier that way, because I knew I was hurting you, but it wasn't fair, and it wasn't kind, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve this."_

He turned around to Tom. "What do you think so far?"

"I think it's really honest," Tom said.

"I can't pretend I'm leaving you again," Chris explained. "But it's not okay to make her hurt over it more than is necessary."

"Yeah."

Chris scanned the next line. "Okay, um, this has a bit of yesterday in it, so if there's something you want me to take out, I will."

"Okay."

_"You deserve none of this. In fact, having had to deal with Tom's family the last couple of days, who are mostly not in favor of any of this at all, I realized how level-headed you are handling this. I haven't heard a single bad word from you about the fact that I fell in love with a man. I know you'll snort now and say I don't deserve it, and you're probably right. But I know your parents, especially your mom, are dying to rip my head off and you've somehow managed to keep them off my tail. I don't deserve that, either, but... it means a lot, and I do see it._

_I know it's going to take a while until we can just talk again. I hope counseling will help. We bought all kinds of things for India yesterday, and we're talking about you and her a lot. We're both worrying how to make this work for you, and for her. Because it's important to me, Tom is making it a priority, too. In fact, he keeps kicking my butt when he figures I screwed up, which is a lot. We've just talked about this again, if we couldn't have seen it sooner and have spared you all this. You're not the only one who's asking yourself that."_ He paused, looking over his shoulder.

"It's fine, I would've written it the same way," Tom said.

"It's not much longer," Chris explained. "Just two more paragraphs."

"Go on."

_"I know that's all probably not helping. I just want you to know I'm thinking about things, too, how to make it easier, and how to make it work. The only thing I can't do is go back and undo it, because... Elsa, he makes me so happy. I probably shouldn't say that, either, but he does._

_If there is anything we can do to help, please let me know. I want to keep you as my friend, but I know it's probably going to take time. If we can at least try and be civil with each other until then, and keep taking care of India together, that would be great. Don't forget to send me the dates for the counseling so I can work it into my schedule, okay? I promise I'm taking it really seriously and I'll be there and you can yell at me as long as you want._

_Talk to you soon,_

_Chris."_ He sighed and leaned against the headboard with Tom. "That's it."

Tom leaned against him, suddenly very tired. "You're playing the cute card there in the last paragraph," he chided gently.

"I do?"

"It's a good letter, but it makes me incredibly sad," Tom said, linking his hand with Chris'.

"Yeah, me, too, but I think it's not even half as sad as Elsa must be right now," Chris said. "It's really hard to decide what to do, Tom. After all we've been through with your family yesterday, I'm... I'm so impressed by how you handled them today, and I just can't be less kind to Elsa than you've been to them, because... in the end, she's much nicer to either one of us than they were to you."

"You're right."

"If your mum wrote you a letter like this, saying she's sorry about how much she hurt you, wouldn't that mean the world?"

"Yeah." The mere thought made him want to cry.

Chris closed the notebook and put it on the floor, then pulled Tom into a hug. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm just being stupid," Tom said. "Still a little jealous when you spend time thinking about her."

"What do you want me to do?" Chris asked.

"Nothing. You are totally right," Tom said. "But it still feels like she's taking time away from me and you. It's not fair, I know that, it's just how I feel." He sighed, eying Chris for a reaction. "We have so little time together and then you'll spend some of it in counseling with her," he explained. "I can totally see how necessary it is but I just don't want to give you away. It's not something we can do together. And I don't know what will happen afterwards. Is it going to change you again? Will she ask you to do things that we haven't talked about?" Tom slowly shook his head.

Chris took his time answering. "I think, honestly, I have no answer," he said. "All I can say is that I'm totally committed to you, but I don't think that's what you're asking."

"No. Just some old-fashioned abandonment issues, I guess. And possessiveness. Lots of positive things mixed into a nice little cocktail of _meh_."

"Tom, umm... I mean... okay, this is going to come out weird."

"Weirder than what I just said? I don't think so."

"Listen, I told you last week why I took my wedding ring off and how I feel I need to earn the right to give someone else something like it."

"Uh-huh."

"And I meant that, and when I listen to you right now I'm kind of going: 'Of course Tom doesn't trust me because look at my track record. I wouldn't trust me, either.'"

Tom's head shot up. "That's not what I wanted to say at all!"

"Yeah, we all have our issues," Chris said wearily. "I have a really hard time getting over the fact that I've broken such a huge promise to someone who thought I loved them. I don't want to make the same mistake twice, and I'm really trying to show you that I'm here to stay."

"And I'm making you feel like you need to prove yourself to me all over again. I'm sorry, Chris."

"I want to share my life with you," Chris said. "But I know how you feel about her. Sometimes I don't know what to do. What helps you, hurts her, what helps her, hurts you. If I don't talk to her, you're not okay with it, but you aren't okay when I talk to her, either."

"Will you call me after the counseling?" Tom asked.

"Do you trust me that little?" There was no accusation in his voice, just honest curiosity.

It hurt, and it made Tom feel ashamed. "No," he said very quietly. "I do trust you. But it's going to be the first time you see her again and it's going to be different from talking to her on the phone. You wouldn't be the first person to have old feelings resurface when you are faced with your former partner, and it would be totally understandable. It would just... break my heart."

"What can I do?" Chris asked. "What can we do that you feel safer whenever Elsa... is even mentioned?"

Tom felt awful. "Can I see the letter again?" he asked. "Please?"

They both sat up and Chris made a point of sitting behind Tom to support him. He got the notebook and restarted it, and the letter came back up.

Tom read it again, silently. "Every second word is 'we', and 'Tom'," he said. "You're saying twice that you want her to feel better but not at the price of leaving me, it's not up for discussion."

"Yeah." He felt Chris hug him tightly. "Tom, I love you so much."

"I know. It's in every second line." Tom sighed. "It is in this one – _he makes me so happy_."

"Because you do," Chris said softly.

Tom reread the rest of the letter. "Chris... would you maybe... that last paragraph, it sounds as if you're going to say yes to anything she'll ask," he pointed out. "Like she can set the dates whenever and you've just committed to being there."

"Oh," Chris said. "I think I just got a little overenthusiastic. What would you suggest?"

"I don't know. But it would be nice if you could... kind of... check back with me first if it also fits into my schedule," Tom said. "It feels weird asking this of you but... I mean, we're both so super busy. It's my complete nightmare that the only time we could spend together in a week you'd be in counseling with Elsa."

"Sometimes I'm a man," Chris said. "I get into the habit of wanting to please her and can someone else please tell me what to do when, so it's never my fault."

"I kinda like that you're a man, but okay," Tom said, but he had to smile.

"Okay." Chris reached around him and set the cursor to the appropriate place. "How about, _I know the counseling is very important to you, so I will do my best to make it possible that I can be there._ _Could you get back to me with the dates when you have them so I can make sure I'll be available?_ "

"Uh-huh." The light feeling in his stomach told Tom that this was much more agreeable. "It's nice."

They worked a moment to get the exact wording into the document. Tom gave it another read through.

"I love it," he said shyly. "Chris... it sounds like you're committed to make it work, but you're still keeping the option open to say no if it doesn't fit on a certain date."

"I mean there's always the possibility that we'll have to swap and make it fit somehow," Chris said. "But I've got to tell you I'm not really good with that time management stuff. I'm just honest here, I got into a huge amount of trouble over it with Elsa before, and I don't want it to be an issue with us. I wasn't kidding when I said I'm a man about that... I'll be sorry when something falls through, but I'm too much of an idiot to worry about it beforehand. I just assume it'll all work out somehow."

"Honey, I'm not your wife," Tom said mildly and gave him a little slap on the thigh. "If it's important to you, you've got to get a handle on it."

"Doesn't work with you, huh?"

"No." Tom chuckled under his breath. He leaned back into Chris and said: "Are we going to send this off today so I can get to make some love with you?"

"Heh heh heh," Chris made, waggling his brows at him. "I'm going to be a total mood killer here but I'd like to see whether Elsa will answer...? And I don't want to interrupt making love with you by diving for the phone when it dings."

"Fine." Tom pretended to pout.

"You took two hours for family today...?" Chris suggested gently.

"Text her to see whether she's available to read it, though?" Tom requested. "I'd be really upset when she's out and we're waiting for nothing."

"That's a good idea. Wait here."

A few moments later, Chris was back with his phone. "I just texted her. Let's wait a moment."

"Come cuddle, then," Tom said, and was happy to lean back into Chris a moment later. "Hmmmm..." He let his hands run along Chris' muscular thighs.

"You know we might be interrupted," Chris said. "No pouting then."

"No," Tom promised. "No pouting."

"Just kissing," Chris cautioned.

Tom waggled his brow at him.

The phone made a text sound. Chris shook his head and brought up the text window. "Hm, she seems to be in a good mood," he said. "Says to fire away." He touched the trackpad and gave the letter a last read through, then copied it into his mailing program and sent it off. "And now we wait."

"I love you," Tom said. "I just needed to say it. Thank you for taking the time to make me feel comfortable with this."

"Uh-huh," Chris said. He was wrapping himself around Tom. "Can I share something with you?"

"Sure." Tom rubbed his scruffy jaw against Chris' bearded one, loving the tickle.

"You know I got up early this morning," Chris said.

"Yeah."

"Which isn't really what I do... I'd much rather cuddle into it with you."

"I know."

"But last night... was so intense, it felt like I would burst. So many things going on. I was honestly about to call my mum again to talk to her about it. Not about... you know... but just about everything that had happened, and how you make me feel, and what to do about it."

"And what did she say?"

"I didn't call her," Chris said. "I sat there with my phone and I realized... I mean we talked for so long last night, before... before we made love. Before you..."

"Chris..."

"Before you came into me," Chris said, and they both shivered at the memory. "I mean, _wow_."

"Yeah." Tom half-turned in Chris' embrace and wrapped an arm around him, their breaths mingling.

"We talked about so many things, I mean, it was an intense day and still we got to figure it out, and... and it was so worth it."

"Yeah, it was." Tom smiled, wondering where Chris was going with this.

"And I thought, it can't be that I keep running to other people when things are getting over my head. You're my partner now, and you're so intelligent and kind and... you're really good. I want to make this work with you. So I thought I need to talk with you, before I talk with anyone else, from now on."

"That's awesome," Tom said, feeling happiness bubbling up from his chest.

"Yeah." Chris kissed his cheek. "And I think we're doing really good."

"Uh-huh." Tom enveloped him in an exuberant hug. "I think so, too."

  
  


  
  



	24. The Price You Pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris and Elsa talk by mail, and Tom has some uncomfortable insights about himself in the aftermath.

 

> **From: Elsa**
> 
> **To: Chris**
> 
> **Subject: Re: I'm sorry**
> 
> Hi Chris,
> 
> thank you for your mail. I didn't think I would hear from you today. I really appreciate all the things you say. For a moment, it felt like you were the person I knew before, and that felt really good. When we could talk, and not everything was so painful.
> 
> I guess it's going to take me a while to understand that you're not the person I married any more.
> 
> I miss you every day. I want to call you about a lot of little things and I miss that we used to send texts all day. I used to know what you were doing if we weren't in the same place. It's hard.
> 
> Chris, I don't know what to say. You have hurt me so much, and at the same time, I can understand why you did it. I want to scream and yell at you and at the same time I want you to hold me, but I know then I'll start hoping you'll come back. But you have made it very clear how important Tom is to you, and that you want to stay with him no matter what.
> 
> And yes, I did get it. You don’t have to be so brutal about making the point the next time, okay?
> 
> At the moment, the hurt is just too much. I don’t even know any more if it was a good idea to go to counseling. When I first thought of it, I still thought that we could work it out, but that was the evening you called me to tell me you're moving in with Tom. You're not coming back. I still don't understand what that means.
> 
> Everything is so confusing now. I read that you and Tom are thinking about how to make it better for me. That makes me feel good and at the same time I'm upset because if you weren't together, it would already be good. You are probably right, we can't be friends right away. You hurt me too much. Everything was going great and I was happy one moment, and the next I have nothing. I can’t understand why, because I did nothing wrong.
> 
> I will call the counseling office to get an appointment for next Saturday. I don’t think it’s a good idea to see you by myself at first, because I really don’t know what I will do.
> 
> I don’t want to go back to the hotel, so India and I are going to stay with Becky. I think I will ask her to bring me, just so you know.
> 
> But thank you for writing and saying all the things you said. At least I got to recognize a little bit of the man I was married to and it makes me feel less alone.
> 
> Elsa

 

* * *

 

> **From: Chris**
> 
> **To: Elsa**
> 
> **Subject: Questions**
> 
> Hi Elsa,
> 
> thank you for writing back. I'm really relieved that we are talking, even if it's just by e-mail. And thank you for agreeing to go to counseling with me after all. I know I'm a terrible husband right now but I want to at least learn to be a good friend for you, and I think counseling will help. Never thought I'd say that as the idea generally still gives me the creeps, but I'm willing to see how it can help us. I will be there.
> 
> I get the back-and-forth and not knowing what is what. I can't make a lot of sense of what is happening at the moment, either, other than that it feels so right for me to be with Tom. Sometimes I really don't know what to say to you, because I know each time I'm telling you what Tom means to me, I hurt you. Each time I'm telling you what you mean to me, I hurt you. Basically, I open my mouth and I automatically hurt you. If there is some way we could talk and that would not mean I'm immediately causing you pain, god, I wish I know what it was. Right now I'm putting my hope on the counseling – again, never thought I'd say that – because I'm honestly out of my depth.
> 
> So let me just try and answer a few of your questions and hope I'm not blundering into yet another idiotic thing right away. If I do, it is honestly without intention, and you're welcome to take me to task on it, okay?
> 
> If you want to know what I'm up to, just ask. Last week was late days at work every day. I was never home before eight, mostly at ten. Late call on Friday, and I was only home by 2am, as expected. So I slept late yesterday and then we talked to you on the phone. We went to buy India's furniture in the afternoon, which a couple of Tom's family insisted to come along to. That then backfired royally because Tom's tongue slipped and he let on that we're together. I know you're getting a bit of a kick out of knowing that not all goes well here, either, so I'm letting you have this: For the rest of the night, we had to deal with Tom's family in all kinds of states of emotion. Two of them point blank refuse to talk to him now because he started something with a married man, so I'm now in the great state of feeling horrible about hurting two people who mean the world to me with having done what I've done. You don't have to feel sorry for me – who would – but sometimes I wish someone would tell me what to do. So I'm just blundering on, doing the best I can, the best thing I can think of, hoping it's going to get easier at some point.
> 
> A lot of times it just feels like I want to punch a wall. Most of the time, actually.
> 
> Let me know when you'll be back. Staying with Becky sounds like a good idea, I'm glad you're not going to be alone in London. If you need anything, help moving your things or something, please let me know. Since the next week is basically going to be a repeat of this one, I won't have the time to help, myself, but I can send someone who can. Please don't be too proud to ask for help.
> 
> I've slated my Saturday off for you and India, but it would be great if we could meet after, say, three or four. If my last week is any indication, I'm going to be so beat from the week that it will take me at least until then until I can think straight again (straight being relative, all things considered). And I don't want to be tired or look as if I'm not interested when we see each other. Of course we can meet at counseling first, and then you decide if you want to keep talking to me afterwards, or rather not. Like I said, I've got the rest of the day scheduled for you and India.
> 
> Again, thank you for talking. It really means a lot.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Chris

 

* * *

 

> **From: Elsa**
> 
> **To: Chris**
> 
> **Subject: London**
> 
> Hi Chris,
> 
> you know what, it is much easier if you talk to me than when you aren't. I've been thinking up all kinds of things you've been up to with Tom this last week while I was alone and crying in Madrid and having parents who were livid and wanted me to do something, divorcing you and taking all your money being the mildest thing of all. Reading how bad yesterday went for both of you almost makes me feel sorry for you as it sounds as if you didn't even have a good week before that. I think there is a lot you are not saying, too, but I think I get why – too private?
> 
> And now it's Sunday and you spend the day talking to me instead of spending it with Tom. That changes a lot of things that I was thinking last week.
> 
> You wanted to know when I'll be back and it's probably on Wednesday. I am waiting for a last bit of news tomorrow morning and then we need to talk, and it can't wait until Saturday. I can see that you are very busy, but we need to call or video chat tomorrow. Should I ping your PA for a good time? I can be flexible from 2pm as I have a couple of appointments and calls before that.
> 
> Seeing as you are so busy it is probably a good idea to ask you now, but I will probably need childcare for India on Friday. Becky can take her the other days when I can't, but Friday she will be out. Since you and Tom wanted some time with India, do you want to take her? I would need to have someone for her by 4pm. I could bring her by the set if all else fails and you can take her home later. I don't want to get a new babysitter in as she's going to be upset about traveling so much as it is, so I don't want to give her to someone she doesn't know.
> 
> I will try to get an appointment with the counseling office for Saturday at four or four thirty.
> 
> Let me know if you have an idea for Friday. I'm sorry it's all so short notice.
> 
> Elsa

 

* * *

 

> **From: Chris**
> 
> **To: Elsa**
> 
> **Subject: Babysitting**
> 
> Hi Elsa,
> 
> there are some things I can't say as they are too private. Then again, I feel if I talk about Tom too much, it makes you sad, and I don't want that. And sometimes I just don't want to talk about it because it is all still so new and we're still figuring out a lot of things. Can you understand that? I really hardly saw him last week, and that was the main reason why I moved in with him so quickly. If I had stayed at the hotel, I probably wouldn't have seen him at all, since we were on different schedules – and now I'm sure I've already hurt you again.
> 
> After our last talk on Monday I didn't really know what to say to you. I didn't want to make it even worse, and as you can see, the long days on set and basically dropping into bed after didn't leave me much time to think, either. It was basically work and sleep, every day.
> 
> I am so relieved that you would even ask me to help with India. Of course we can take her. I've just talked to Tom, and if it's okay with you, you could bring her by his place at 4, or he could pick her up at Becky's. If you don't want that, of course you can bring her by the set. I have no idea yet how long I'll have to stay, though, and I would hate for her to have to be in childcare until deep in the night, before I can take her home. If you bring her by the flat, you can have a look at the things we bought for her and make sure everything is okay.
> 
> I wish I could offer to take India on Wednesday and Thursday if you need to get a few things done. We'll both be on set, so if you want to drop her off with me for a few hours so you can get something done, please do.
> 
> Can't wait to hear what the news are, I hope they're good. We have some big scenes to shoot tomorrow which will take a lot of time, though, so please don't be upset when I don't have a lot of time to talk. I'll talk to Keith first thing in the morning and I'll text you what times will most likely be good so you don't have to wait the whole afternoon.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Chris

 

* * *

 

> **From: Elsa**
> 
> **To: Chris**
> 
> **Subject: Just talk to me**
> 
> Hi Chris,
> 
> like I said from the start, if I know why you do things, it helps me understand. Like when you finally explained to me what happened last Friday. It was better than wondering. It still hurts but now it makes more sense why you moved in with Tom right away. It felt like such a slight that you would do that two days after it happened, that you would be in such a hurry to leave us behind.
> 
> I am wondering now if maybe you got into a fight with Tom and that is why you are talking to me now?
> 
> Tell Tom thank you for taking India. I will bring her by then. I don't want him to drive across London with a screaming baby in the back seat. We both know she's not going to be happy about being handed off to someone she hardly knows. I'll try to be there a little earlier so I can stay for a moment until I can see that she has settled.
> 
> Elsa

 

* * *

 

> **From: Chris**
> 
> **To: Elsa**
> 
> **Subject: Done in for today**
> 
> Hi Elsa,
> 
> Tom says it's okay. He'll probably text you later this week, if you don't mind, as he needs to rearrange a few appointments to make it possible to take India that early in the day.
> 
> No, we haven't been fighting. I'm trying not to make myself better in your eyes than I am, so... He's been dealing with his family the whole day (again), calling them up to talk to them and see how they're doing today. I've been watching this going on for some time and it's simply heartbreaking. I don't want to be that person that when someone (you) calls them just to see how they're doing, or just to stay in contact, no matter the disagreements, will shut them off and hurt them even more. And I know I have done both. I have no idea how to make amends to you, I probably won't be able to, ever. But to sit silently and let you deal with this on your own, that's not okay, even if it seems easier for me to do.
> 
> I have to admit though that I do have my limits and I'm about to reach it for today. Please don't take it personally, but having to deal with various degrees of family in various degrees of upset has really taken its toll, and what I really need now is a few hours alone with my man.
> 
> I am so very happy that I dared to write you that mail, though. Thanks for talking and trying to understand, and thank you so much for letting me see India next week. You have no idea what that means to me.
> 
> Please cuddle the little one from me and tell her Daddy misses her. I will talk to you tomorrow.
> 
> Love,
> 
> Chris

 

* * *

 

> **To: Chris**
> 
> **From: Elsa**
> 
> **Subject: I'm sorry, too**
> 
> Chris,
> 
> you can tell Tom it's okay to text me. I'm feeling really bad about the things I've said on Monday about taking India away from you. I know you're her Daddy and she misses you, too.
> 
> Talk to you soon,
> 
> Elsa

 

* * *

 

Midway through Chris' talk with Elsa, Tom got up to start dinner. It was a mix of not wanting to disturb, which he often had when they were talking, and the need to get up and do something, and do something nice for Chris.

He ended up cooking something rather atypical – two quarter pound sirloins for both of them with potato wedges and a huge salad. A few dieticians from the set had showed up at his house the previous week and delivered massive amounts of food for Chris which Tom was sure would keep until Christmas. His freezer was so full that he had to hold the contents in while he closed the door on them or they would fall out, and most of the food wasn't anything he was supposed to eat, as Chris' diet was aimed to keep him bulked up, and him, thin and flexible.

The task of cutting and preparing the food gave him time to think. He didn't think he would ever forget Chris' ashen face when he read Elsa's first e-mail. Tom had been so alarmed that he was close to dragging him away from what he was doing. But Chris had shaken his head and said he now knew why Tom's father couldn't admit he did something wrong – having to face exactly the extent of pain you had caused the other person was almost impossible to bear.

Tom drizzled garlic oil over the wedges and seasoned them, then put them in the oven, before taking care of another load of laundry. The steaks were next. Once they were in the oven with the potato wedges, he started cutting lettuce and vegetables for the salad. Inbetween, Chris would poke his head through the door and ask questions, and he found himself agreeing to rearrange his schedule and babysit India by himself that coming Friday before he could really think about it. Chris' barely contained excitement over a chance to see India at all was worth any and all inconveniences it would cost to make it possible.

Tom felt grateful that he had insisted on figuring out what exactly had been bothering him about Chris' correspondence with Elsa. He completely understood that Chris could not share everything she said, but what he could share of their talk didn't leave any doubt that Chris had made his choice for him and was living up to it, and moreover, that Elsa was aware of that, as well, and respected it as the status quo.

After that last mail, Chris had asked for a bit of privacy and was now up in the nursery, and Tom couldn't blame him. He took his time preparing the salad and fixed some dressing in a separate bowl, then turned the potato wedges carefully before putting them back in the oven.

It was four o'clock now and they had basically spent the day dealing with family – again. It was a necessary part of the process, probably, but he'd really had enough by now. Between his family, and Chris' wife, he really needed some uninterrupted time with Chris now. It was going to be an early night and an even earlier call time for both of them tomorrow morning.

The timer indicated another 25 min until food was ready, so Tom wiped his hands and made his way upstairs, gently knocking at the door to India's room.

"Honey, dinner will be ready in about thirty minutes," he said, ready to leave if Chris needed more time alone.

"Are you going to come in?" Chris said.

Smiling, Tom pushed open the door and quickly crossed over to the rocking chair. He leaned over Chris for a kiss and was relieved to find himself toppled into his lap the next moment, where Chris proceeded to do his best to squeeze the stuffing out of him.

"That bad?" Tom asked compassionately, getting comfortable in Chris’ lap.

Chris sighed. He didn’t say anything right away, just rocked them for a while and Tom didn’t press him, trying his best to be a reassuring presence, ready to listen when Chris felt like talking.

"It's hard to believe in one's own worth when you're confronted with what you've dealt out to someone else," Chris said at length.

"I'm very proud of you," Tom said quietly. "It takes a brave man to do what you've done."

Chris shook his head sadly. "I know now why your mum is so upset."

"Please don't take that on to yourself," Tom said. "Like my dad said last night, it's not our responsibility, it's theirs. We have enough to carry on our own mistakes. Let's not go and cry for more, please?"

"I'm just saying," Chris said. "It opens your eyes." He quietly kissed Tom's temple.

Tom had a bad feeling about letting Chris believe that he was anywhere near his father’s category.

"Chris, at no point did you take this easy." Tom said. "I've seen how you struggled through making that decision and how hard you've fought."

"I've fought very hard for you," Chris said, tracing Tom's lower lip with his thumb. "But I knew I wanted to be with you after the first night. There was no struggle on my part. I was ready to give them up the moment you let me kiss you, and then I was concentrating on making sure you would say yes, and nothing else. And when you said yes I was concentrating on making you happy so you wouldn't regret it, and every time Elsa interfered with that mission, it just made me angry. That's how much I struggled. Not at all."

"And why were you ready to go back and actually face what you've done now?" Tom asked, knowing in his heart that every word Chris had said was true.

"Because of you," Chris said quietly. "Because I don't ever want to hurt someone the way your family is hurting you right now. And still I'm torn between wanting to finally have time just to love you, and doing right by them, and most of the time, you win. And I can't be sorry about that. I just can't. I need you too much, Tom."

"I need you, too," Tom sighed. "I know it'll sound ridiculous but it feels like I've missed you all day."

"Yeah, me, too." Chris pulled him closer and pressed their foreheads together. "Tom, this is... this is where I rest. We need to protect this, we need to protect _us_ , or we're not going to get through this."

"You're right." Tom felt as if he was shedding pounds of weight. Chris was putting into words what had been bothering him for hours now. "I need to listen to you more."

"I know you need your family, but I need you, too."

"I know, honey, I know." Tom was grasping his hand and kissed Chris' knuckles. "It's been all about me these couple of days. Hell, it's been all about me last weekend, too. You've worked so hard to have me."

"That I did." Chris smiled at him and let his hand run up the back of his head, through his short hair. "You're worth it, though."

Tom smiled. "Is this what you want to do now? Talk about how much we love each other, and mean to each other?"

"I could think of worse things," Chris rumbled pleasantly. "But yeah, I need that, Tom. Can I please drown in you for the rest of the day?"

"Make you feel this is all worthwhile?"

"I know it is," Chris said. "But if we never take time to actually experience what we have, we'll get torn up in defending it and I'm not ready to give you up to please everyone else."

"Chris..."

"You're mine now." Chris cupped the side of his face.

It sent a thrill down Tom's spine. "Yeah." He smiled and captured Chris' thumb with his teeth. "Without a doubt." But he could see that there was more, more that Chris needed, and he dipped his head and kissed him, listening hard for what Chris was trying to tell him. There was a bit of a quiet desperation that worried him, a void that he wasn't sure right now how to fill. "I am yours and you are mine," he said. "Chris, I love you, if there is anything you need from me, please let me know."

"I'm not sure yet," Chris said. "Just being where you are sounds good to me for a start."

"And turning everything off, phones, computers...?"

"That damn doorbell? Yeah." Chris smiled. "Falling asleep on top of you, waking up wrapped around you, having you read a story to me, see you smile, make you laugh, make love with you." Tom could see that tears of exhaustion were rising into Chris' eyes and he regretted deeply that he had spent so much time trying to make sure his family was okay, and so little making sure that Chris was.

"Anything you want, Chris. Anything."

"I'm so happy to see India next week," Chris said.

"God, yeah." He didn't have children, all he could do was empathize, and he should have done more of it.

"I missed her so much." Chris said. "Thank you for calling Elsa yesterday and talking to her. If you hadn't, I'm not sure today would have worked so well. She... she said she was sorry for the things she's said to me on Monday, that she wanted to take India away from me... oh Tom."

Now he was properly crying, and Tom held him as tightly as he could, scared and glad at the same time. He realized that the time was over now when the support would flow one-sided, when Chris was doing everything in his power to make sure he was all right. He was proud that Chris trusted him enough to share his fears and doubts, but he didn't yet know if the foundation that he had built in the past week was enough to hold them both if Chris crumbled.

For now, all he could do was hold Chris, rub his back, kiss his hair and hope it would get better.

 

* * *

 

Just how much they had overdone it became apparent after their meal. The food helped Chris to calm down somewhat, but they were both incredibly tired and hardly managed to finish cleaning up the kitchen after them. They were both still in their pajamas, never having bothered to change out of them, and it was basically a question of whether they should fall asleep stacked on the sofa or on the recliner, or spread out in their bed, and they decided on getting naked in the bed.

"I feel so stupid right now," Tom confided as he was lying on his back, with Chris sprawled all over him. "I'm so sorry I wasted our last day alone for my idiotic family, Chris."

Chris' face was buried against Tom's neck, and all he did was raise two tired fingers. "I could've not done all of that with Elsa," he said. "It's okay."

"It was important."

"Yours was, too, so... let's just not do it ever again on a Sunday."

"Okay." Tom let his hands run slowly down Chris' back. It was such an odd feeling to realize that Chris was honestly too done in to respond to him right now, that he now had to fully support him until he was. What a reality check that was. Chris’ love might not have a limit, but what he could take certainly did. He couldn’t just keep counting on Chris balancing everything he did; it was selfish, and he had been selfish in the extreme today.

It didn’t feel good.

"What're you thinking about?" Chris mumbled. "Your heart is going a mile a minute."

"How much I need you," Tom said, kissing his forehead. "How things change. How much you've given up to be with me. How selfishly I’ve taken advantage of that today. How much I love you. How little I yet know about taking care of you."

"Hey," Chris said, and Tom was incredibly relieved when he sounded a little more like himself. "I'm just tired, Tom. I'm not going anywhere."

"It still feels weird to me when you talk to her again as if you were friends and I'm so sorry I feel that way but I can't help it," Tom breathed out. "I'm sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I’m really sorry."

"Hm," Chris made and rolled to his side, pulling Tom with him so he could look at him better. "It feels weird to me too, Tom."

"Oh god, thank the heavens," Tom exhaled. "I'm not sure what I'd have done if you had loved it and everything was lovey dovey between you again."

"It feels completely weird to be so honest with her and talk as if nothing had happened, because the only one I want to have such conversations with is you," Chris said rather forcefully. "It's bothered me a lot. I see that it's probably necessary, and it did have an effect, I mean, we now know she's going to let us have India at least next weekend, for a day, but... no, it doesn't feel right."

Tom simply kissed him, so exuberantly that Chris started laughing at some point, and they both ended up puffing little laughing kisses on each other's faces.

"Don't worry," Chris said. "Okay? Please don't worry. There must be some middle path between the two, between not talking at all and talking as if nothing had happened, I've just not found it yet. And it's weird, you know, if you've known someone for so long, and you've always just talked, you kind of fall back into it once you've started, without thinking about it. And I was talking more and more about you, and she still wouldn't let up, and told me how much better it felt when we talked instead of me not saying anything, and at the same time, I really didn't want to tell her anything at all. It felt so wrong. That's why I finished there in the end, it was just getting... too weird. Too intimate, too close." He looked him in the eye with a fond smile and stroked over his hair. "The only one I want to be intimate and close with is you."

"I'm so relieved."

“I’m sorry I’ve scared you.”

“You didn’t, it’s just me, being so damn insecure,” Tom said. “I’ve just been lying here and I realized that I have no idea what I would do if you weren’t here any more. I’ve never fallen in love like this, Chris. It’s wonderful to be in it, but it’s pure terror to think it might end.”

Chris just stared at him.

“What?” Tom asked.

“Now you know how I feel,” Chris said, and he brightened considerably. “Thank you, Tom.” He kissed him.

“For what?” Tom was a little confused.

“I was finished with writing to Elsa and I sat up there feeling like my stomach was twisted into a pretzel! I didn’t know why, I just thought I was hungry and tired, and some of what Elsa had said was really hard to swallow, but now you just said that, about it feeling weird… and you are so right, that is exactly how I felt. I’m glad I got to say sorry, but I really don’t want the old relationship back. I don’t. And now you’re saying that, and it’s like breath of fresh air and I can breathe again, because that was exactly it. That’s thank you number one.”

“And two?”

“And two is the other thing you just said… never been in love like this, it is incredibly amazing when it works and it is sheer terror when it even seems like it doesn’t. Watching those imbeciles… I’m sorry… your ‘ _family_ ’ take you apart piece by piece, oh god, horror.”

“Were you afraid I would leave you?” Tom said.

“No, but being so helpless to do anything is horrible. And when you were so unresponsive in the store, it was hell.”

“When you just were, it was hell, as well. I felt like I was left on a tiny island all by myself.”

Tom leaned on his elbow and scrutinized Chris’ face, and his fingertips traced everywhere his eyes went.

“Hm…?” Chris asked languidly, caught in the magic of the moment.

“I… I don’t nearly treasure you enough, Chris,” Tom said. “I’ve just caught myself realizing that your love and support is not a neverending resource, that it takes quite some strength out of you to be there for me.”

“I love doing it, though…?”

“And I want you to keep doing it,” Tom said, surprised by how moved his voice sounded. “But I’ve got to take better care of you.”

Chris closed his eyes and let out a sigh that sounded as if he’d just got rid of the weight of the world.

“Yeah?” Tom asked, charmed.

“Yeah. That sounds really, really good.” He opened his eyes again and the blue seemed out of this world.

“You’re right, we need to make space for us or this is all for nothing,” Tom said. “I’m sorry I haven’t been protective enough of it so far. Of you.” He kissed him gently.

Chris hummed in the back of his throat and pulled him closer. “Is there more where that came from?” he murmured.

“Oh yeah.” Tom happily got lost in his lover, tracing his body with gentle fingertips until he was entirely covered in goosebumps. Kissing him so gently that Chris’ toes curled and he made tiny sounds of absolute bliss that made Tom’s heart want to burst with how much he loved him. “I’m not making love to you enough,” Tom murmured, his hand affectionately rubbing Chris’ belly.

Chris purred loudly.

“Are you even listening?” Tom asked, silently amused.

Chris opened a lazy eye and smiled at him.

“More?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So you can speak. Heh heh.” Tom kissed him more, his hand drawing circles on Chris’ belly until his lover’s breath hitched, then he let it go a little lower and stroked his cock, and lower, between his legs, then slowly let his lips follow.

“Ooooooh,” Chris made, squirming with pleasure.

“You little hedonist,” Tom chastised him fondly.

“A little to the left,” Chris directed.

“Here?” Tom let his hand go a little to the right.

“No, no, left.”

“Here?”

“The other left.” Chris gave him a little slap. “You’re teasing me.”

“Uh-huh.” Tom grinned. “Would you hand me the lube, honey?”

“The sparkly one?” Chris asked.

“If you want to shit sparkles for the rest of the week, sure,” Tom said cheerfully.

“Tom, I haven’t… We just ate, I…”

“I know.” Tom gave the tip of his cock a fond kiss. “I’ll use a condom. Is that okay? We’ll just see how it goes.”

Chris reached down to touch his face. "Tom, I'm afraid I'm going to be turning you off it completely..."

Tom slid between Chris' legs and softly nibbled on the inside of Chris' left thigh. His legs were quivering as he turned them outwards to better kiss their tender insides. Chris still smelled a little like the shampoo and lotion they'd used this morning, and the sharp note he had begun to associate with Chris' arousal, and that was it.

"It's fine," Tom soothed, and transferred his kisses to his right thigh. "Hmmm, you taste really good." His skin was salty with sweat, rich, manly. It tasted like a high-powered version of Chris. "Will you hand me some lube and a couple of condoms?" he asked, smiling. He could've sworn Chris' cock twitched when he said those words. He leaned up again, giving the member in question some love while Chris stretched for the desired supplements, and Chris was nearly throwing them at his head when he jerked in reaction. Tom just chuckled. "Is it too much for you?" he asked innocently while opening one foil packet and freeing a condom. He quickly rolled it over his hard cock, swallowing thickly at the sensation as he did so. Chris followed his every move, his eyes glued to his hands.

"Shut up and don't stop," he commanded.

Tom waggled his eyebrows at him and started suckling at his sweet spot until Chris swore and pulled his hair. "Impatient again?" Tom asked, having the time of his life teasing his lover.

Chris just glared at him, which of course amused Tom even more.

He lifted one of Chris' legs over his shoulder, kissing and nibbling along the inside of his thigh until Chris squirmed and moaned, then pulled the other condom over three of his fingers and lubed it. He also gave his cock a little of lube, but made sure Chris didn't pay much attention to it by gently nudging Chris' scrotum up and sucking at his perineum to distract him. He then transferred his lips back to Chris' cock, just licking and sucking at the underside, and when Chris was sufficiently busy clawing at the sheets and swearing at him, he brushed his fingers against his hole.

Chris arched off the bed, crying out at the sensation.

"Oooooh so good," Tom moaned. He really wanted to give his own cock a good stroke or two, but the condom was in the way. Tom tongued his way around Chris' ball sack, his fingers pushing gently against Chris' hole until it gave way and he slid in to the second knuckle.

Chris hissed at him.

"Is it okay?" Tom asked, concerned, but one look into Chris' eyes told him it wasn't just okay, it was pretty much awesome. Chris was biting his lip, straining not to jump him.

It was enough to make Tom abandon his project, tear the condom off his fingers and line up with Chris. Leaning over him on all fours, they both breathed heavily as their eyes crossed, and Chris quickly shoved a pillow under his pelvis to cant it towards Tom's pleasure.

Tom slowly pressed against Chris, their eyes locked. He rocked his hips, feeling the resistance, and then Chris exhaled, and he slipped in.

Tom had to stop right then and there, the sensations too much. "You are so tight," he keened. "Jesus."

"More," Chris rasped. "Please give me more."

Tom leaned forward on his arms, and they very slowly started rocking against each other, Chris lifting his hips into a position that was comfortable for him, and Tom just very incrementally pushing in, pulling out. It was excruciatingly slow until Tom couldn't hold back any more and very decisively slid in to the hilt and was then very, _very_ busy not coming on the spot. "Oh my god I'm inside you," he gasped. "Chris... fuck." Chris was pressed against the very sensitive skin around his cock, his balls were resting against Chris' crack. It was a completely unreal thing to do.

"Hmmmm," Chris hummed. "Oh god that feels so good."

"You're insane," Tom laughed.

"Come have me," Chris taunted. "If you dare."

"Chris, this is only the second time you..." He felt Chris' legs wrap around his ass, pulling him in even deeper. "Fuck, Chris, have some mercy." Chris' chuckle transferred directly to his cock.

"You feel so good inside of me," Chris moaned. "So good, Tom. So fucking good." He began to rock his hips with his words, arching into Tom, pulling him in. "Like you belong there. Like you've been born to be there. Like you're mine. Like I'm yours." Tom slowly began to move with the beat of Chris' hips. "Like that Tom. Come into me again. Like that, Tom. Fuck you feel so good. Please... yes... oh my god."

"Like this?" Tom pulled out, halted, pushed back in. "Like this, Chris?"

"Ah!" Chris cried out. "Yes. Oh god. Tom. Yes." He pushed up again, actively moving back into Tom.

"Go slow, honey, go slow," Tom chuckled helplessly. "Or this is going to be really short."

"Is it..." Chris swallowed. "Is it good for you, too?"

"Yeah." Tom felt a laugh bubble up from his chest. "But the best is that you enjoy it so much, love." He leaned forward and kissed him, and they found each other laughing into each other's mouths. "Hmmmm." Tom pushed back in, the resistance so delicious. Chris wrapped his arms around him, pulling him closer, and for some very, very long moments they kissed deeply, skin on skin rubbing gently as Tom moved inside Chris to the beat of their tongues. They rocked together, completely immersed in each other, and Chris cupped Tom's ass and pulled him even closer.

"Ooooooh," Tom moaned. "Chris..."

"I want to feel you coming," Chris murmured. "Please?"

"I'll... I'll try." Tom laughed helplessly. "You feel so fantastic, Chris. This feels fantastic."

"Uh-huh." Chris smiled and kissed him, his pelvis pressing up against Tom. "Come, Tom?"

Tom shivered. His forehead pressed against Chris' clavicle, he found purchase with his hands locked around his shoulders, and started to thrust into him soulfully, curling his spine up with each thrust, releasing him, curling him up again. Chris' breath hitched, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on Tom's back, and he arched into each thrust, pushing back, relaxed, pushed back.

"Chris..." Tom whined. "Chris, this is... _oh god_... going to be.. _fuck you feel so good_ … it." He shuddered, feeling as if his whole body coiled in expectation, and then he came, pouring his soul into the man enveloping him so completely. It was different from any orgasm he'd had with Chris so far, really rather unspectacular in terms of the frenzy leading up to it, and yet it felt so substantial, deeply connected with Chris on such a fundamental level. "Can you... _ohhh_... feel me... _hmmm_... Chris?" he panted through his orgasm.

Chris' head was thrown back, he was biting his lower lip, completely concentrating on the sensation of being filled. He was still listening when Tom collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily, a bone deep languor spreading through his body. "Hmmm, Chris?" he managed, his tongue heavy. "Sweetheart." He swallowed on a dry mouth, and found that his lower belly was wet – Chris must have come just like him, largely silent.

Chris blinked slowly, his left hand stroking across Tom's back. "Wow."

"Uh-huh." Tom snuggled in, his nose against Chris' jaw. Belatedly, he remembered that he was wearing a condom and sluggishly managed to push himself up and pull out, the condom slipping through his fingers and refusing to be tied until he finally managed and flicked it in the general direction of the night stand. "Oh god," he groaned, collapsing back atop his lover. "I thought I'd requested," he yawned. "some vanilla sex, Chris."

"Next time." Chris kissed his forehead and curled up around Tom. "Next time."

They were asleep within minutes.

 


	25. Under A Gazing Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter full of pure fluff and Henry V feels.

It was already dark out when they woke after a short, refreshing nap, but after a cup of coffee and a couple of biscuits, Chris was antsy and insisted they go out for a walk after all, feeling stifled in the confines of the flat.

They wrapped up in warm hats and shawls in addition to their padded, non-descript coats, which they were very happy about once they actually stepped outside into the cold November evening. Tom was quite well known around the neighborhood, but people were usually respectful, smiled or said hello and otherwise left him to his own devices. In the cover of dark, and him choosing mostly dimly lit streets for their stroll, they dared walking hand in hand when they didn't see anyone coming, and then Tom turned them into a small park.

Predictably, it was fairly empty, and they passed only a couple of people who were using the park as a shortcut as they were just walking briskly along the well-kept paths, their breath misting in front of them, noses red with cold, just glad of each other's company. It was a small park, and they were tall men, so they easily rounded it twice, and then zig-zagged, and because they weren't anywhere near tired out, Chris pulled Tom over to the public football field to play. They hadn't thought of taking anything, but Tom found an abandoned frisbee, which they zapped back and forth, putting more and more distance between them to see how far they could throw it with any accuracy, and laughing when they didn't. When they were tired of that, Chris started to initiate a game of pretend rugby, and they chased each other up and down the field throwing an imagined ball, catching it with ever more dramatic zeal and spectacular saves. The field was wet, so they didn't dare try tackles that would actually take them down. That didn't keep them from doing playful body checks as they dodged each other's attempts at getting the non-existent ball back, and when Tom had danced around Chris long enough, evading him, Chris simply grabbed him around the middle and attempted to carry him behind the line. Tom laughed, kicked and squirmed, and Chris finally set him down and shut him up by kissing him, and Tom couldn't help but return the kiss, out here, in the cold November evening, in the middle of a quiet football field, with the air so wet they could feel it prickling against their skin.

Chris smiled into the kiss, and felt Tom smile back and he turned it playful, placing little kisses anywhere on Tom's face, his nose, eyelids, mouth, chin, cheeks... Tom started to giggle, infecting Chris to do the same, and they were so lost in their game that they didn't notice the passersby until someone yelled, good-naturedly: "Take him home! I think he said yes!"

They were both mortified, hiding their faces against each other's shoulders in a close hug, but except for a few knowing chuckles nothing happened. Whoever it had been who had caught them kissing had not recognized them. They could hear their voices for a while, but not understand the words, but it sounded like two men were good-naturedly laughing and talking about the display they had just witnessed, and they passed, their footfalls disappearing in the distance.

"Oh my god that was close," Tom exhaled.

"Yeah." Chris dared to surface and held Tom's face in his gloved hands, ducking his head to kiss him again. "God, I wish we weren't so well known, love." And kissed him once more. "I can't stop."

"You'll have to." Tom gently disengaged him, rubbing their noses together. "Which way did they leave? Let's go the other way." He took Chris' hand and they quietly left the field, going back to the safety of the less traveled and less lit paths.

"Let's get some hot tea in a shop and then slowly go home?" Tom asked.

"If someone sees us?" Showing up together in a publicly frequented place seemed ridiculously daring after what had just happened.

"As long as we're not kissing I think it should be fine." Tom threw him a smile, but Chris could see that he was worried.

"I'm sorry."

"About kissing me? I hope not." Tom pressed his hand. "We were just really careless... we can't do that again."

"No."

"But I think if they'd recognized us, they'd called, or we would've seen flashes from them taking pictures." Tom exhaled and shook his head. "Damn, my knees are still weak. Hard to mistake what we were doing for anything else."

"We could just have tea at home," Chris suggested, feeling very much out of his depth, and angry with himself for having been so careless, letting himself be swept away by the moment.

"Chris, I don't want to have to hide at home and never go out any more, just because someone might see us together," Tom said. "Everyone knows we're good friends, and that we're shooting _Thor_ in London." He let Chris' hand go as they approached a busier road with a lot more people traffic."And once you've talked to Elsa about it, I hope we'll be able to tell people you've separated and moved in with me for the time being, so it'll be no surprise if people catch us grocery shopping or being out with India."

Chris was very quiet, just walking alongside him, his gloved hands deep in his pockets and head low.

"Chris, are you okay...?" Tom asked at length, putting a hand on his arm.

"Is this the shop you were looking for?" Chris asked, pointing to a well-lit coffee place.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Tom, I'll wait out here until you're done." The idea of being in bright light where people might easily recognize him didn't sit well with him. "I don't want to deal with people right now."

"Okay... what would you like?"

"Just bring something," Chris said. "Would be nice if it was hot." He could see that Tom wanted to kiss his cheek, at least, and smiled sadly at him. "See you in a moment. I'll be over there."

There was a small green adjacent, with a tree and a wrought iron bench wrapped around it, and he sat down at its edge, uncomfortably tapping his feet with his fists deep in his pockets.

It took Tom a moment, but Chris hadn't been bothered by anyone when he reappeared, and he got to his feet quickly and accepted the hot drink.

"Let's take the long way back," Tom suggested.

They walked side by side for a while, quietly, waiting for their drinks to be cool enough to enjoy. When the traffic slowed and they were practically alone in the alley they turned to, Tom switched his drink to the left hand and wrapped his right around Chris' arm, and then let it slip into his coat pocket to join his.

Chris sighed.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tom asked, trying for the first time a tentative sip of his Chai.

"I'm tired of this," Chris just said. "Each time we've solved a problem, eight new ones pop up that I really don't want to deal with. I just want us to be together and stop being so secretive and having to watch what we do or say. I'm so frustrated and tired of all of this."

"Let's just go home then," Tom said. "If I had a fireplace I'd light it."

"That was nice last week, up in your summer house," Chris said.

"Mum actually asked yesterday whether we'd done it up there last Saturday," Tom said, shaking his head.

"What? When?"

"In the car, when she called me."

"In so many words?" Chris was glad about the distraction.

" _I hope nothing untoward happened in the summer house_ ," Tom imitated her.

"What did you say?"

"I feigned outrage and told her that I wouldn't answer that question." Tom gave him a look. "I guess we're not going to be lent the keys again anytime soon. But if you don't mind, the horse trainer who worked with us on the Henrys has a stable up in Rickmansworth, and they do rent these summer homes – really just tiny bungalows, two bedrooms max, tea kitchen, dinner with the family or takeout, and acres of land to hang out on or take a ride."

Chris gave him a smile. "That sounds restful."

"And private," Tom said.

"Yeah." Chris threw him a look and smiled sadly. "Wish I could kiss you right now."

"Me, too." Tom pressed his hand. "And we could take India when we have her. They have a lot of farm animals, chickens, ducks, rabbits, and lots of horses, of course. All sizes, too."

"Are you trying to distract me?" Chris asked.

"Just trying to remind you that not everything is complicated. We're... you're definitely going to see India the coming weekend. Isn't that good?"

"You can say we," Chris said fondly. "When was the last time you babysat a 6-month-old?"

"Um... never? At least not for so long and without her parents," Tom admitted. "I'm going to have to learn that book by heart that you gave me."

Chris chuckled. "I'm really sorry I'm going to work so late on Friday," he said. "Wish I could be there when you two get acquainted."

"Yeah, me, too." Tom cuddled into his shoulder for a moment.

"I'm sure Elsa will show you what needs to be done," Chris said. "But you'll call when she's left, tell me how it's going?"

"Definitely." Tom gave him an adoring look and Chris really wanted to wrap his arm around his shoulder and pull him closer.

"This is going to be so hard on set," Chris said. "Ungh!"

"It will be," Tom agreed. "On the other hand, we're going to be so sick of each other by the end of the day. Working together, living together..."

"I don't think so," Chris said. "I sense loads of pent-up sexual energy that needs to go somewhere. I'd be surprised if we make it past the hallway in the evening."

Tom smiled. "Do you want to tell anyone on set?"

Chris blew out a breath and shook his head. "I don't know. If it was up to me, I'd climb up a box, get a megaphone, announce it to everyone, get off my box and that's it, show's over. But we both know it's not that simple... there are too many people on set. Someone is bound to tell somebody something and next thing we know, we have paps on our heels, following our every move. Not what we want, right?"

"No."

Chris finally took a sip of his drink and discovered to his delight that Tom had got him hot cocoa. "Heh heh heh."

"Is it any good? They have a good bean up here," Tom asked fondly.

"Uh-huh. You keep figuring filling me up with chocolate will solve everything, huh?" Chris teased.

"Maybe not solve, but definitely cushion," Tom said wisely. "Hey look, we're almost home."

"Want to take another detour around the block?" Chris suggested.

"Sure." They passed the house and kept walking. Tom took a long sip of his tea, then said: "Is there anyone you'd feel comfortable with telling? I mean, if they notice anything, or... or you would even want to tell?"

"Natalie would be fine," Chris said.

"Rene?"

"Sure." Chris nodded. "The other Asgardians? Tony?"

"Not really," Tom said. "Alan?"

"Hm." Chris took a long sip of his cocoa. "I'd feel better if we did," he said. "At least tell him that Elsa and I split up and I'm living with you for the rest of the shoot. I mean, he probably already knows, because I told Keith. But it would be more respectful to tell him in person."

"And that we're together?"

"No."

"You're really clear about that," Tom pointed out. "How come?"

"Because when Alan knows, he's got to tell Kevin. And then it's going to be a marketing problem, and we have even more people having ideas of how it's got to be." Chris sighed. "I can hardly keep straight how I would like it to be with all of the family telling us what they want, and I haven't even told all my family yet. Family first, Tom, or I'm going crazy. Yours, mine, Elsa's. When that's through, we can start thinking of everyone else."

Tom gave him a look, a mix between admiration and pride. "Okay," he said.

"Let our publicists handle when something leaks and for now, keep it between us and close family and very close friends," Chris said. "People we think we can really trust."

"If Marvel finds out through a leak, all hell is going to break loose," Tom cautioned. "You know that."

"And we'll deal with it if and when this happens," Chris said, already rummaging through his jeans pockets for the house keys.

"But it means we'll have to be a lot more careful, Chris. No more kissing in parks, no holding hands in public..."

Chris looked at him as they turned into the driveway and walked up to the door. Chris opened, and pushed against the heavy door with his back, then let Tom scale the stairs in front of him. Tom opened the flat door and they put down their drinks on the dresser and started to get rid of the heavy winter clothes.

" _The poor condemned English..._ " Tom murmured under his breath.

"Hm?" Chris toed his boots off and shoved them close to the wall, then proceeded into the living room, where he turned on the uplight by the stereo. He put both his and Tom's drinks on the table and dropped onto the sofa, being rewarded with a delightful armful of Tom a moment later, who basically dropped on top of him and tried his best to squeeze the stuffing out of him.

"Henry V." Tom's voice was muffled by Chris' cardigan. "The English are waiting on the eve of the battle of Agincourt, and I was thinking coats when we took them off, and then the whole sequence dropped into my head – _The poor, condemned English like sacrifices by their watchful fires sit patiently and inly ruminate the morning's danger. And their gesture sad, Investing lank-lean cheeks and war-worn coats, presenteth them unto the gazing moon so many horrid ghosts_.”

"They sit patiently by the fire and wonder about what's going to happen the next day?" Chris translated, and when Tom nodded. "And then?"

"They've been walking through most of France in fall weather – rain, cold, lost a lot of soldiers to sickness, didn't have enough food, because Henry V had ordered them not to plunder – that's why lank-lean cheeks and war-torn coats – they've been through the battle of Harfleur and a few skirmishes along the way. They're sad, tired, exhausted, in front of them an army that is five times their number, well rested, and well-fed. The French were letting them exhaust and decimate themselves on their way across France and now that they're easy pickings, they're aiming to destroy them before they can reach Calais." Tom rested his chin on Chris' breast bone. "Calais was still English then."

"Kinda like we do," Chris mused, enjoying the fact that he could touch Tom to his heart's content, letting his fingertips trace his spine. "Maybe not, what was it, _lank-lean_... but kinda war-torn, waiting for tomorrow's danger... and what was that about the moon?"

"In the light of the moon, they're imagining all the horrors that the next day will bring," Tom said. He smiled.

"Also a bit like us," Chris sighed. "What happens next?"

"In the verse?" Tom asked, and when Chris nodded, he explained, "The narrator is introducing Henry V, who's tirelessly wandering the ranks for the whole night. It's 3 o'clock and he's walking from watch to watch, from tent to tent..."

"The verse," Chris asked softly.

Tom smiled. " _For off he goes and visits all his host, bids them good morrow with a modest smile, and calls them brothers, friends, and countrymen._ "

"That sounds familiar."

"More?"

"Uh-huh."

" _Upon his royal face there is no note how dread an army hath surrounded them.._."

"He doesn't let on that he's afraid of the French," Chris translated.

" _Nor doth he dedicate a jot of color to the weary and all-watched night, but freshly looks and overbears attaint with cheerful semblance and sweet majesty._ "

When Chris couldn't immediately figure it out, Tom helped: "He overbears attaint... like you said, he doesn't let on that he's afraid, he's overplaying it by seeming cheerful. And I guess 'sweet majesty' means the way he's carrying himself, as someone of royal blood, a worthy king, gives hope to the soldiers and officers."

" _Sweet majesty_ ," Chris repeated, letting the words melt on his tongue and thought just how well that described Tom when he was acting. "And then?"

"The narrator says some really nice things about Henry, describes exactly why he is such a figure of hope. I guess that is his definition of 'sweet majesty'."

"And he says...?" Chris prompted.

" _That every wretch, pining and pale before, beholding him, plucks comfort from his looks: A largess universal, like the sun, his liberal eye doth give to every one, thawing cold fear, that mean and gentle all behold, as may unworthiness define, a little touch of Harry in the night._ "

Chris let the words sink in, then asked Tom to repeat them. "He touches everyone?"

"We translated it to me walking around actually shaking everyone's hand," Tom explained. "But I think it also means that his mere presence is giving comfort to _mean and gentle all_ – common soldiers and gentry. A little touch of Harry, his largess, his being larger than life, it rubs off on everyone. He's carrying himself with majesty, is not cowed by what awaits them, he believes, or at least very convincingly pretends to, that there is hope. That not all is lost."

"Is he afraid, though?"

"I think he is, Chris. After giving everyone a pep talk, he's disguising himself as a commoner. I'm sure he wants to know about his crew's morale, but he grew up carousing with the common people of London; I'm sure it's a comfort to him to pretend he's not a king and doesn't have that responsibility, even if it's just for a few hours. He even provokes a commoner to pick a fight with him, which they postpone to the next day after the battle – it's pretty much what he would've done as a young prince when he was still pretending he wouldn't have to fill those really big shoes that he had never asked for."

"Do they win?" It was so soothing to talk about something other than their immediate problems, and he loved listening to Tom going on.

"They do. Against all the odds."

" _Once more into the breach?_ " Chris asked, remembering the famous quote.

"No, that's from the beginning, in Harfleur, when he was still cocksure... He's still the same man, though, telling every one of his men, from gentry to foot soldier, that they are worth their breeding, that he doubts not that they can do this, ' _cause there's none of you so mean and base that hath not noble lustre in your eye_. What a leader." Tom sighed contentedly, happy to talk about one of his favorite subjects.

"Now I really want to know what happens," Chris laughed softly.

"We could read it together...?" Tom asked hopefully.

"You know it too well," Chris said. "I'd be reading and you'd be saying your lines by heart."

"Possibly," Tom admitted, crinkling his nose. "There is such good stuff coming up, though, the St. Crispin's Day's speech, you know, _we few, we happy few_ , and oh my god, what he says to the French ambassador when he comes for ransom for the umpteenth time, _Bid them achieve me and then sell my bones_ , makes me want to kick with joy." He grinned.

"I can see that." It was delightful to watch Tom be excited about his work.

"Would you try another one that I can't do by heart?" Tom asked gently.

"I'd still be intimidated," Chris said. "You just know so much."

"He did write for the common people, you know, Shakespeare did. The theater certainly was on the wrong side of the Thames. It wasn't exactly high born entertainment and it was looked upon as being fairly disreputable. His plays are filled with common people. They're often the butt of the joke, but you can sense how fond he was of them."

"What would you recommend?" Chris asked.

"Hm.. _As You Like It_ is pretty funny," Tom said. "Lots of mistaken identities and crossdressing."

Chris chuckled. "Is there something you want to tell me...?" he asked, amused.

"Yeah." Tom got on his elbow so he could see him better. "There is something. _I love you_ ," Tom intoned clearly. "You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Chris." He gazed at him with such a look of love in his eyes that Chris felt like he was melting on the spot.

"And I love you," he replied quietly. "More than I ever thought I could."


	26. Where You Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Chris spend their first day on set together. Elsa has some groundbreaking news for Chris.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, you sweet people! Let me thank you again for your tireless feedback and your dedicated readership. I couldn't have done it without you! <3
> 
> Until the next time! :)
> 
> justmeandmymuse

"Good morning, honey."

"Oh my god Tom, you're so cold." Chris shivered, but drew his lover's arms around him. "Had a good run?" He turned his head so Tom could kiss him.

"Uh-huh. Cold and dark out." Tom's cool limbs wrapped around Chris', and Chris shifted and turned around so he could properly cuddle up to him. Tom kissed his forehead. "It's going to be a beautiful day," he said, and smiled.

They'd spent what was left of their Sunday talking, cuddling, and talking more. Talking about so many things; their hopes, their dreams, where they wanted their lives to go. Tom felt truly at peace for the first time in a very long while, knowing that his life was now anchored in Chris.

He cupped Chris' jaw and lifted his face to his own and kissed him, fully intending to make him waking up as pleasurable as possible.

But of course they were worried, both of them. It was the first time they'd be together on the set since they'd come together, and the previous night had shown them that it was easy to slip up when they weren't careful.

They were quiet but close as they sipped their morning coffee, and Chris kissed Tom by the door to the stairway until Andrew rang the bell, wanting to make use of every last second they had as a couple, before they had to pretend they were just friends.

Being on the lot, it was a little easier, as they were immediately swept up in their morning routines of breakfast, make-up and costume. It was a big day on the set, with a huge action scene to be filmed: Asgard was about to be taken by Dark Elves. It was going to be a long day with little privacy.

As always, as soon as the whole company was assembled on the sound stage and had to wait for their moment, everyone started to goof off and get into shenanigans to pass the time. Tom stole Chris' hammer – again – to get into a mock battle with Zach, until Alan had made sure that the extras on both sides knew their routines, and then instructed the actors on what he expected them to do. It was easily nine o'clock when the cameras rolled for the first time, and the next four hours were filled with action sequences, explosions, and high drama.

Alan kept Chris, Natalie and Jamie back when everyone else broke for lunch to go with them through their moves for the close-up after the break, so Tom found himself in a group of Asgardians around the catering table. He didn't really notice at first, but Rene was quickly corralling him off to a secluded spot and started quizzing him about his weekend.

"It was okay," he said around a leaf of lettuce. "Yours?"

"Fine. I had family visiting and took them up to Greenwich," Rene said.

"That's ironic," Tom grinned, since half the film played out there.

"My cousin is a science geek, so he really wanted to go," Rene said.

"Did you see the _Cutty Sark_ as well?"

She nodded. "They loved it. Did you two have fun at dinner last Thursday?"

"Last Thursday?" Tom furrowed his brow.

"Yes, when you picked up Chris, remember?"

"Oh! Yeah, that was a lovely evening," Tom smiled.

"Glad to hear it," she said. "You do know that Chris made everyone finish early that day...?"

"Hm?" He'd only listened with half an ear.

"That evening? When you picked him up? Production was supposed to go until 9 at least, and Chris had a lengthy discussion with everyone until they let him go at 7."

"Are you sure about that?" Tom asked doubtfully. "That doesn't sound like Chris." Just like himself, Chris took his role as the leading man very seriously and usually lead by example. Getting into public discussion with production and asking for an early night off was just not done if it wasn't anything short of an emergency.

"Yeah, not that we didn't appreciate the early night, but we all wondered what had happened, if it was maybe something with Elsa and the baby. Then you came by to pick him up for dinner."

"Oh, Rene," Tom said. "Chris is not a quitter."

"No one said that," Rene said, raising her fork. "I just thought it was a curious thing to do."

Tom just shrugged, getting a bit uncomfortable with the questioning. At the far end of the catering tent, he saw Chris' tall form appear, Natalie and Jamie in tow.

"Let me guess, Chris just showed up?" Rene asked ironically.

"Hm?" Tom said.

"The size of your grin," Rene said. "You whole face just lit up."

"Can't help it," Tom said. He waved for Chris to notice him. "I just like him."

"Uh-huh. Even seeing him 24/7?" Rene asked indulgently.

"Yeah." Chris had waved back and signed that he needed to get food first. "Even seeing him 24/7 he's a great guy." Tom transferred his attention back to Rene. "We just get along really well, what can I say?"

"I can just imagine you two playing games all day," Rene said. "You do know that everyone's curious about what you two get up to."

"Probably everything they can think of," Tom said, grinning insolently. "The sky is the limit."

  


* * *

  


"We need to hurry," Chris said as they trudged back to his trailer after eating. "I still have an hour but you need to be back in thirty minutes."

"Do you want me to be there while you talk to Elsa?" Tom asked. They hadn't really talked about it, just that Chris had promised her a call today, and that it was some sort of really important news.

Chris gave him a shy grin as an answer, and Tom shook his head in reaction. "Oh, Chris." He wanted to take Chris' hand, but the lot was full of people, and someone was bound to see them.

Chris opened the door to his trailer. "After you," he invited him in.

Of course Tom knew what awaited him; as soon as he had closed the door, Chris was pressing him against it. "Don't smudge up the foundation," Tom cautioned. "People would notice."

"Shut up and kiss me," Chris demanded, but he was very gentle about it. It was super awkward, both of them in their heavy, thick costumes and make-up, Tom in a wig on top of it all. Tom's leather outfit creaked whenever he moved, and they both smiled into the kiss whenever it happened.

"Better, sweetheart?" Tom asked. Chris had managed to kiss him for what seemed like ten straight minutes, and was now pressing his forehead against his. "Oh god, honey, you're going to have white all over your face."

"I don't care."

"Yeah, you do." Tom entwined their hands. "I love you."

"It's killing me."

"I know." Tom stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers.

"It's not right, Tom. I don't like having to lie about who I love."

"I'm sure that megaphone is lying about somewhere, waiting for you." Tom said. "Everyone's going to be assembled for the next take." He raised his brows. "Hm?"

"And people are starting to be nosy about us," Chris exhaled. "I can't count how many times I've been secretly asked what we're up to."

"Yeah, me, too," Tom said. He took Chris by the hand and pulled him over to the padded bench. "I just say yes to everything." He grinned.

"Hm?"

"Rene was poking around in the dark. She said people are wondering how we're spending our time, and I said they're probably right with everything they can come up with. Which reminds me, Chris... she said you asked to go off early last Thursday...? What was going on?"

"Ah, shit, you weren't supposed to know," Chris scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.

"Chris?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "I had kind of planned to do all that stuff with you on Friday, after we were done filming," he admitted. "And then the next day's call sheet came through. I had to think fast."

"You brought the whole production to a crunching halt just to celebrate our first week anniversary with me?" Tom asked, not sure if he should be charmed about the incredible gesture or annoyed that Chris would abuse his role as the lead for this.

"Yeah, I... I knew we wouldn't see each other on Friday. I didn't want to miss it," Chris said, taking his hand. "Honestly, I'm not sorry. It was definitely worth it." He looked at him defiantly.

Tom stared at him. "I'm beginning to worry what you'll think of for one month," he finally said. "I'm really afraid of one year!"

"I have a couple of ideas," Chris admitted. "But what I'm really looking forward to is the 25th."

"Chris..."

He shrugged. "I'm just really serious about you, Tom. You make me happier than anyone else ever has, and I can't even tell anyone about it. If I don't get to make a huge fuss about you every now and then, I'm going to burst."

In place of an answer, Tom leaned over and kissed him. "For once," he said, "you're the one who has the greater difficulties dealing with the situation. If there is anything I can do..."

"This is a good start," Chris murmured. "Don't stop."

  


* * *

  


After Tom had left, Chris caught Alan in his office, looking through his notes. The door was open, and Chris knocked, sticking his head through the door. "Do you have a moment?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah, come in." Alan looked relieved to be able to put his notes aside for a moment.

Chris closed the door behind him and sat down opposite the director.

"What can I help you with?" Alan asked. "Everything all right?"

"On the set? Yeah. I love the footage we got this morning," Chris said, having seen a few of the playbacks before he went to lunch. "Really, it looks incredible. I'm psyched for this week," he said genuinely.

Alan smiled. "Great to hear it. What's the matter, then?"

"It's more of a personal thing," Chris admitted. "I know there are rumors on set, so I thought before they get out of hand, I'd just set the record straight with you. Elsa and I split up," he exhaled in one go. "And I've moved in with Tom for the duration of the shoot."

"Oh." Alan leaned back in his chair. "Chris, I'm sorry to hear it."

"Yeah, well... it's my fault, really," Chris admitted. "It all happened quite suddenly, and it's not because of anything Elsa has done."

Alan studied him for a moment. "What can we do?" he asked.

"Nothing, really," Chris said. "We're dealing with it, but things are a bit out of whack at the moment, so... I'm trying to do my best to stay focused but I have a lot on my mind right now."

"I would think so," Alan said. He sat forward and leaned on his elbow. "I take it you and Tom have it well in hand, though? Because from last week's performance, I wouldn't have guessed anything is wrong, to be honest."

It was awkward. Chris exhaled. "Yeah. He's... helping. A lot."

"Chris, I can't promise any time off, we have an incredibly tight schedule, especially this week," Alan said. "But thanks for coming to me and letting me know. I know Keith mentioned something along those lines, but if we officially know, of course it's easier to help move things along if there should be rumors or we hear people talk. I take it you don't want to go the press with this yet?"

"No." Chris shook his head. "We want to keep it private until we've figured out a few things. I don't want Elsa to be caught in the backwash, it's a stupid situation for her to be in. But if you'd let people know through production, need-to-know, that would help a lot. Just want to stop any rumor-milling and misinformation if possible."

"Chris, you'll have it," Alan said. "We're incredibly lucky to have you and Tom as leading men. If there is anything we can do to make this easier, we'll do it, all right?"

"Thanks, Alan, I really appreciate it." Chris stood and shook his hand.

"Don't mention it," Alan said. "See you back on stage in 30?"

"You've got it."

  


* * *

  


It was late afternoon when the focus shifted to Loki and Frigga, and Chris could take a break and talk to Elsa. Tom saw him leave and waved, knowing what he was up to, but there was no way he could leave the set now, and he had to focus on the scene.

It took a good two hours to cover all angles, before Tom could take a short break, and his next scene was with Chris. He had a bit of water and a banana and waited for his co-star to return. He couldn't help smiling when he finally saw him entering the sound stage. A cloud of people immediately descended on him to fix his make-up, hair and costume, while his PA quickly went through the lines with him to refresh his memory.

By the time Chris arrived besides Tom, all they could exchange was a "Hi", and then Alan was already on them, and for the next two hours, they fought the Dark Elves side by side. It was a little maddening not to be able to talk, but he could see that Chris also wanted and needed to work, so he threw himself into what they both loved to do. They had a very short break while some set piece was being replaced that had broken on impact with Chris' hammer. Their PAs brought coffee and a snack, and they sat side by side, still with people around them who waited for them to finish so they could freshen them up.

"Everything all right?" Tom asked. "How did it go?"

"Pretty substantial news," Chris said.

"Good ones?" Tom wanted to know. There was a quirk to the corner of Chris' mouth, and the way his eyes crinkled that told Tom that it was something that gave Chris some measure of joy. At the same time, his brow was still furrowed and he looked a little troubled. Tom couldn't quite read what it all meant.

"Yeah," Chris said. "I think so. But it's... I'll have to ask you something."

"Later, on the way home?" Tom asked.

"Actually – would you like to sit down for dinner somewhere?" Chris asked.

"We'll be in our civvies," Tom cautioned. They had dressed in their regular clothes this morning, jeans, cardigan or jumper, nothing fancy at all.

"Sounds relaxing to me." Chris gave him a look and smiled.

"You just don't want to cook," Tom accused him, but he was relieved and smiled back. "Ah, here we go!"

  


* * *

  


It was 9 pm when they arrived at the little corner restaurant in Tom's neighborhood and were lead to a private table in the back. Both men were starving, so the conversation revolved around food choices and asking the proprietor to be so kind and put up a "Do not disturb" sign at the entrance to their little nook to make absolutely clear that they wanted to be by themselves. The restaurant was maybe half filled on a slow Monday night, and most guests had already eaten and were just enjoying their conversation with some drinks. Of course they attracted attention, but once their dinner arrived, everyone seemed to have got used to having someone famous eating in the back, and the nook actually protected them quite well from straying eyes.

They dug into their food choices hungrily, both men completely concentrating on taking the edge off their gnawing hunger, and once the plates were cleared, and they were waiting for dessert, Tom leaned back in his chair and nudged Chris' knee.

"So," he said. "What's up that you can't talk about?"

"Eh, nothing I can't talk about," Chris said. "Really." He smiled encouragingly at Tom. "I just wanted some privacy – oh, there's the pudding."

They received their dessert and a last choice of beverage for the evening, but the earlier urgency was gone. They'd sat down on both sides of a corner and held hands under the table, where no one could see. It meant Chris had to eat with his left hand, which he didn't seem to mind too much from the way he smiled at Tom while his fingers stroked gently over his palm.

"I'm so damn lucky," Tom said, closing his hand around Chris'.

"Hm?"

"That you love me, too," Tom said. "Sometimes it hits me that this is real and that you want me back."

"Wanting you back is putting it mildly," Chris said self-deprecatingly, giving Tom that trademark Aussie smile that he loved so much.

"I'm bursting with curiosity, though," Tom prodded. "Let me know the news, please?"

Chris took a deep breath. "Okay." He threaded his fingers with Tom's and squeezed. "Just letting you know that you can say no to this."

"Chris, no to _what_?"

"I talked to Elsa today and... wow." Chris shook his head. "Tom, I... I just about managed to not lose India."

"What?" Tom blinked. "What?" he repeated a little quieter.

Chris sighed. "Elsa was so fed up with me last Monday that she was ready to just leave with India and not come back. She's been auditioning last week and through a huge stroke of luck, she's been cast in a Spanish mini series as the replacement for an actress who has broken her foot. She's leaving for Romania for a six week shoot – basically right up until Christmas. And she was going to take India with her."

"What?!" Tom could see heads turn from the corner of his eye and lowered his voice. "You're kidding me."

"No." Chris shook his head. "She said the first time she thought about not doing it was when you called her on Saturday."

"Fuck." The expletive was out faster than Tom could hold it back.

"So thank you. Again." Chris sighed. "Apparently it's a ten locations shoot and Elsa had been worrying about taking India along, but didn't want to leave her with her mother, either. And along you come and tell her to let you know if she needs help, or how to make it easier."

"And then you go and listen to me trying to get my family to see reason and turn around and attempt a truce with your wife," Tom said. "Chris, that was pretty close."

"I know. Apparently I must have said one or the other okay thing yesterday after all. She said she really appreciates us talking yesterday, but since it's so clear I'm not coming back to her, she needs some time apart, to figure out what her next step is going to be. That's why she went to the audition, which makes sense. She's a really good actress, she's just not been taking roles because we figured my career was more important at the moment, and we wanted India to be with both of us while she was still so small. Well." He looked sad. "That's not really possible any more, I guess. And I do understand why she's doing it. I told her I would support her no matter what. And she said she wants to leave India with us while she's gone," Chris concluded. "Because, in her words, it's easier for us because there's two of us, and there's only one of her to take care of everything. But I need to ask you, Tom, is that what you want? Have India live with us, permanently, at least until Elsa is back from her shoot?"

"Oh, wow." Tom blinked. "How has this suddenly become my decision?"

"Because when we first talked about it, last Sunday, we were both thinking about shared custody – India would live with us for a few days, and a few days with Elsa, or some other arrangement like that. You didn't expect to have her full time, Tom, and I'm not taking it for granted that you'd say yes."

"God, Chris, what's the alternative?" Tom asked. "We have a whole room set up for her in my house. I've caught myself thinking, yesterday, of the room as 'India's room". We've been waiting for her to come home to us." Then he realized what he had said. "You were," he corrected himself.

"Were you waiting?" Chris asked softly, completely charmed.

"She's not my daughter," Tom said defensively.

"Were you...?" Chris gave him a beatific smile.

"Yeah, well... kinda... okay, yes." Tom exhaled. "I got really caught up in the excitement, okay?"

"It's going to change everything," Chris said. "About the way we're going to live together. She's huge fun, but there isn't going to be any impromptu sex in the middle of the day..."

"She takes naps, doesn't she?" Tom smiled. "And I've been thinking about getting a day bed for her for downstairs. I'm sure she's going to feel lonely up in that new room at first without anyone being there whom she knows."

"Tom if I could, I would kiss you right now."

"Is that a promise for later?" Tom asked. "Because I'm so going to hold you to it."

"Count on it." All Chris could do for the moment was squeeze his hand until it hurt.

  


* * *

  


"How long is Elsa going to stay in London?" Tom asked much later, when they were already in bed, the street lamp outside casting a muted light into the room. He was lying in Chris' left arm and was stroking his chest absent-mindedly, running his fingertips over and around his pecs, his thumb lazily bumping over his nipples.

"About a week and a half," Chris murmured. "She's coming back sometime Wednesday evening and then leaves for Romania the following Saturday. Apparently she's got another audition lined up here in London that's why she's back early."

"She's serious about it." Tom leaned over Chris, resting his chin on his chest.

"Uh-huh." Chris reached up to stroke through Tom's hair.

"And what about the counseling?"

"Uh... we'll talk to the counselor on Saturday and see if there is a way we could maybe book online sessions or something. Because there are quite a few things we need to discuss, still." He yawned. "Are you okay with all of that?"

"Chris, I hardly have reason to complain," Tom said, shaking his head. "Ten days ago, I was lonely and desperate and so tightly in the closet I didn't even dare to tell myself. And now I have you – which I really still sometimes can't believe - and everything is different. I'm so much happier with myself. I don't have to hide any more because the worst things I've feared have already come to pass, and look at me, I'm still here. Sometimes when you're not there, I have these moments when I look around and this dread grips me that it was all just a wonderful dream, and you're not really there and I'm still alone..."

"Never," Chris said fervently. "Tom, never."

"It just sometimes happens," Tom said. "And here you are and keep offering me these riches and then you ask me if it's okay with me. Sometimes I have no words."

"Don't you know that I feel the same way about you?" Chris asked. "Tom. I had a life that I thought I'd really wanted and there were moments when I woke up and looked around and thought, 'This can't be all there is, is it?' And then I spend time with you and all the color comes back and I know why I'm alive."

"That's how you feel about me?"

Chris suddenly seemed to realize what he'd just said and blushed. "Well, yeah," he said. "Didn't you know that?"

"No." There was a bit of a delighted smile on Tom's face. "It's sometimes a bit hard to imagine that I have a lot to give... you've been pouring a lot of work into me this past week."

"You're worth it," Chris assured him.

"You've put up with even more."

"Tom stop, so have you." Chris stroked a hand through his hair. "You owe me nothing."

"I don't think I could've done this without you," Tom said. "Chris, I really mean it." He shifted to lie atop his boyfriend, resting his chin on his hands above Chris' sternum. "I was so scared. If you hadn't pushed through that and just insisted that I face this, I don't think I'd ever found the courage."

"You've given up so much to be together with me," Chris said. "If I had known that... if I had known what consequences this would have for you, I'm not sure I would've pushed you quite so hard."

"You mean to say you wouldn't have gone there for my sake, but your own sacrifices were okay?" Tom asked, just the slightest bit amused.

Chris let the thought run through his head and smiled. "No," he said truthfully. "I wanted you. I didn't say I wouldn't have gone for you anyway, just maybe not... pushed you so hard."

"Makes me feel good to know you'd have gone for me anyway," Tom smirked.

"Yeah, I'm horrible like that," Chris drawled, and then yawned long and hard. "Sorry, it's no comment on you."

"No, I know." Tom blinked and gave a reciprocal yawn. "Long day."

"Want to...?" Chris moved his hips suggestively.

Tom chuckled. "Would you hate me if I said no?" he asked.

"Does that mean we're moving on to be an old married couple?" Chris drawled, his fingertips creating soothing patterns on Tom's back.

"Hmmmm... maybe." Tom smiled. "And maybe we're just really tired."

"And maybe I love you so much that just being with you, no matter what we do, is making me happy," Chris said, stroking over his head again. "Close your eyes, Tom. I've got you."

"And I've got you." Tom gave his sternum a fond kiss, and settled down where he was, cuddled into Chris. "I love you."

"And I love you," Chris whispered. "Sweet dreams, my heart."

Tom had no doubt that's what they would be.


End file.
